


Filled Prompts From Tumblr

by Miss14



Category: All Elite Wrestling, Being The Elite (Web Series), Professional Wrestling
Genre: M/M, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-21
Updated: 2020-01-21
Packaged: 2021-02-22 16:01:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 21,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22352116
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss14/pseuds/Miss14
Summary: Here's a collection of prompts I filled from Tumblr. All involve various pairings/polyam of Orange Cassidy, Chuck Taylor, and Trent Baretta/Beretta/Trent? or whatever he calls himself. These are all over the place. Most of them are wintry themed because I started around Christmas. They range from fluff, domestic, smut, and everything in between, so ratings between T-E for swearing to fucking.
Relationships: Orange Cassidy | JC Ryder/Chuck Taylor, Orange Cassidy/Trent Baretta/Chuck Taylor, Orange Cassidy/Trent Barretta, Trent Barreta/Chuck Taylor
Comments: 1
Kudos: 45





	1. Your Hands Are Cold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "Your Hands Are Cold!"

Prompt 4:”Your hands are cold.”

“Fuckin’ no good damn cold ass Chicago can suck all of my dick!” Frigid winter air assaults Chuck and Orange relentlessly, precipitation starting to cascade down as both men linger outside awaiting their Uber. When the pair trekked several blocks from the Sears Centre to the nearest local bar no snow was falling. A few hours and several drinks later tiny, hard flecks of a nasty rain/snow mix are beginning to come down fast. “Cold as shit out here! Fuck you, winter! You’re a dumb bitch!” Chuck belts out another obscenity soaked tirade into the cold weather while tugging the hood of his sweatshirt up over his head. Orange watches his friend’s cloud of breath slowly dissipate into the night air, in that moment noting how underdressed Chuck is considering the weather conditions. 

“Need to dress warmer.” Orange tightens the drawstrings of his down jacket’s fur-lined hood as the wind picks up, Chuck cursing harder yet as the cold cuts through him and sends his hood flying off. 

“Needs to stop being so motherfucking cold!” Chuck’s favorite finger salutes the sky, getting pelted with icy pellets of drizzle in return. “Bitch!”

“All you have on is a t-shirt and hoodie. Of course you’re freezing, dumbass.” Orange burrows both hands deep inside his jacket pockets, Chuck still swearing while failing to keep his hood up. 

“I just wanna go back to our fucking room and roll myself into a blanket burrito. This is bullshit.” Losing the battle to keep his head covered, Chuck’s holding the edge of his hood with both hands to keep the wind from blowing it off again. Orange knows from years of experience his friend isn’t the type to be prepared for literally anything. Here he is facing winter in Chicago with no heavy jacket, no hat, no gloves. The longer he pulls at his hood to keep it in place the more wet snow collects on his hands, and Orange is sure they must be chilled to the bone by now. 

“Hey, c’mere?” Orange unearths both hands from the confines of his pockets and laces his fingers in Chuck’s, frowning in disdain at how icy they are. “Your hands are cold.”

“HOW THE FUCK ARE YOURS SO WARM?” 

Orange pulls Chuck’s hands down to waist level with a sly grin. “Heated gloves.” Fingers still interwoven, Orange pushes both sets of hands back into the warmth of his jacket pockets. “We can share.” It’s more cramped with the addition of Chuck’s slightly bigger hands but they wiggle and shift their wrists to make it work. Orange cradles Chuck’s still frozen palms between his own hands and the battery-powered heated gloves he purchased for himself last winter, hoping to heat them back up quickly. 

“Hey Orange?” Chuck leans forward to close the gap between their bodies, hoping to soak in any extra warmth Orange has to offer. “Are those heated gloves in your pockets or are you just hot for me?” A laugh sneaks out before Chuck can even finish his trademark ‘in your pocket or…?’ line, and Orange can’t help but giggle at the sheer corniness of it. 

“Lil from column A, lil from column B I guess…” Orange trails off when his friend begins gently massaging his palms, Chuck slowly working his now far less chilled fingertips over to rub the pad of Orange’s thumb. “Warm now?” Orange asks, grinning up at his taller friend. 

“H-O-T.” Chuck spells out his one-word answer exaggeratedly hard, matching Orange’s grin with a wide, toothy smile of his own. 

“Shut up!” Orange laces his slender fingers back between Chucks, giving his friend’s hands a few soft squeezes. “Didn’t want you to have cold hands.” He offers Chuck a thoughtful glance, enjoying how their hands feel paired together like this.

“You know what they say about cold hands?”

“Warm heart?” Orange answers softly, his thumb lazily circling Chuck’s. 

“No good for cranking it.” Of course at any given moment Chuck is only thinking about his dick, of no surprise to Orange. 

“Oh, yeah. That’s how the saying goes. I forgot.” 

“Thanks, Orange.” Chuck’s tone shifts from dick quip serious to something considerably softer, Orange struck by the tender undercurrent of his friend’s expression of gratitude. 

“Hafta get you a pair for Christmas.” Orange decides, cradling Chuck’s hands towards the inner lining of his pockets so they’re pressed against his abdomen. 

“But seriously…my dick is cold too so if you wanna go ahead and warm that up for me next…” Orange doesn’t have a chance to decide whether his friend is making yet another dick reference just for the hell of it or he’s serious before their Uber arrives. Without another word, Chuck removes his hands from Orange’s grip and the pair make their way to the car, leaving just Orange’s hands in those pockets the were just sharing. Orange swears he can still feel his friend’s hands against his as they drive off, palms tingling while replaying how Chuck’s fingers circled them so softly.


	2. Christmas Porn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt #20:Person A catches B watching Christmas porn/B invites A to watch Christmas porn with them. (or person C as well) OBVIOUSLY, this is not safe for work. There’s talk of porn action and dicks so if that’s not your thing don’t read this, please.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I researched actual Christmas porn and based it off those. You're welcome.

“Oh yeah…unnhh…fuck me, Santa!” Orange stops dead in his tracks just outside Chuck’s bedroom, a double and triple take still not enough to wrap his mind around the muffled phrase that just traveled through the slight crack in the door. “Ooooh, gimme that Christmas cock!”

“The fuck?” Orange asks himself, gently nudging the door open to take a better look. What lies just beyond the doorway shouldn’t be any shock to Orange, Chuck watches porn frequently and hardly ever bothers to secure his bedroom door closed. Generally, Orange merely shrugs it off and leaves Chuck to it. Catching his roommate watching a video of Santa Claus fucking a big-titted blonde when it’s barely past 2 pm? Orange has to admit that’s a little jarring. Most days Orange would keep going without hesitation, but he has to admit his curiosity is getting the best of him. It can’t hurt to peek in and check out what’s on his friend’s playlist, Orange decides. Chuck doesn’t notice the intrusion right away and he isn’t jerking off, so Orange clears his throat and pushes past the door. 

“Whatcha watchin’?”

“Oh shit! Fuck, Orange! Scared the shit outta me!” Chuck’s not the least bit embarrassed for being spotted watching holiday-themed porn, more startled by Orange’s sudden presence and annoyed to have to pause his video. 

“Is that, uh…is that Santa?” Orange wonders, sliding his sunglasses down for a better look. 

“Yep. Wanna watch one with the Grinch?” Chuck doesn’t bother waiting for a response, he clicks back out to a page of search results and scans the thumbnails for the video he mentioned. 

“Is his dick green?” Orange decides it’s safe to venture closer since Chuck doesn’t have his dick out, stopping just behind the desk chair his roommate’s seated in.

“God I hope so!” Neither man can hold a straight face as the scene plays out on the screen, a male actor in a better than expected Grinch costume interrupted from stealing Christmas by a buxom blonde dressed as Cindy Lou Who. Laughter erupts as the sex scene starts, the whole thing impossibly absurd to both Orange and Chuck. “Who thinks this is sexy? People who have Grinch fetishes? Do you think that’s a real thing? I mean, who is this for?” Chuck leans back to glance over his shoulder, between laughs asking Orange for his expert opinion on the matter.

Orange shrugs his response. “You’re the one watching Christmas porn in the middle of the day, man. You tell me.”

“What’s with all the laughing in here?” Trent’s compelled to join them from hearing both men laughing their asses off. Immediately he regrets deciding to enter the room. “Oh, what the fuck! Is this what you guys do now that you live together? I’m out!”

“No! Stay! C’mon, Trent.” Chuck begs his teammate, barely able to stutter out his plea between titters of laughter. “Is it the Grinch? Because we can watch somethin’ else…”

“His dick isn’t even green. Lame.” Orange comments, immeasurably disappointed by the lack of attention to detail shown. 

“How they gonna have his dick green, Orange? Paint it? It’ll come off.” Trent’s still peeking around the doorframe, unsure if it’s wise to enter the room or not. 

“Whatever.”

“I’m just sad the didn’t make a two sizes too small joke in there. Really missed an opportunity. Let’s find something else…” Chuck heads back to find what’ll surely be another horrendous holiday-themed video for them to watch, scouring the search results with eager eyes. “You can come in, Trent. We’re not twisting our candy canes or anything.”

“Haha.” Trent takes a few cautious steps inside the room, not getting too close just yet.

“There’s nothing sexy about a Grinch costume with lube in the fur, so no boners here.” Orange assures his friend, waving him closer. 

“I mean, I kinda have a boner…” Chuck remarks softly, shifting his dick with his free hand. 

“Of course you do. You always have a boner, dude. You really need to see someone about that.” Trent reluctantly joins Orange behind Chuck’s desk, expressing his concern for his friend’s constant state of arousal. 

“Yeah. He’s right. You get a hard-on way too easily.” Orange agrees, scanning the thumbnails of videos as Chuck scrolls down the webpage. 

“Fuck you guys! My dick just has the Christmas spirit all year round! Ooh, what about this one? Miracle On 69th Street!” Orange and Trent groan in unison at the title. Chuck can’t click any harder or faster, the scene of a man and woman engaged in oral pleasures springing to life on the screen. 

“She’s pretty hot.” Trent notes, watching along with his friends as the woman in the video swallows down her partner’s dick.

“He’s got a great hog.” Chuck’s eyes widen with a close-up shot of the lady spitting a mouthful of slobber back onto the cock she’s eagerly sucking.

“One, of course you’re focused on his dick. Two, yuck! I hate all that spit. That’s not sexy at all. Who does that?” Trent’s clearly disgusted by the amount of saliva involved, the other two men erupting in laughter at the horrified face he’s making while watching.

“Have you never had your dick sucked or…?” Chuck laughs, head slowly bobbing up and down in time with the brunette on the screen as she keeps blowing her companion. 

“Shut up.” Trent knees the back of Chuck’s chair, barely phasing his still giggling friend. “What’s with that Christmas tree? It’s so sad. It’s about to fall over.” In the background of the scene sits a small, hastily decorated white Christmas tree, the poor thing nearly toppling down as the male actor motorboats his lady friend’s asscheeks. 

“Ohhhhh!” All three men groan together, their ensuing laughs drowning out the caterwauls of fake moans coming from the woman in the video. “Get up. Lemme find something.” Orange shoves Chuck forward, nearly sitting on his friend’s lap as he ventures to take over the porn-finding seat. 

“Watch out. Still got a boner.”

“Ugh. Stand over there. Can’t you control your dick? Orange and I don’t have boners!” Trent takes several steps away from Chuck and his hard-on, perplexed at just how his friend can possibly find any of this a turn on. 

Orange studies the options on the screen and starts ticking off names of videos he finds particularly amusing. “I Saw Mommy Blowing Santa Claus? All I Want For Christmas Is A GangBang? Santa’s Anal Elves? How The Grinch Gaped Christmas?”

“Does that Santa have his dick in a box?” Chuck points to Santa Claus offering up his cock in a red gift box. 

“Looks like it.” Trent sighs, shaking his head.

“Click on that one with the chick in the candy cane striped stockings!” Chuck urges, nudging Orange’s shoulder way too hard. 

“Okay, damn…” Orange clicks on Chuck’s selection, a busty blonde wearing only red and white striped thigh highs getting fucked from behind flashing to life. 

“Now she’s got nice tits.” Chuck’s watching intently over Orange’s shoulder as she spreads her long legs apart and starts kneading at her clearly fake breasts.

“Meh.” Orange shrugs, Trent echoing his friend’s sentiment. 

“Yeah. Kinda meh.” All three men lean away from the desk as the female porn actress starts wailing obscenely loud moans, obviously faking her pleasure with over the top cries. 

“Man, that really ruins porn for me. I hate when it sounds fake like that. Pick another one, Orange. And stop playing with your dick, Chuck!” Trent shoves his friend, shaking his head in disbelief.

“I’m just adjusting. Chill!” 

“That’s what you always say. Don’t jerk it until we leave!” Chuck glowers his friend’s direction, grabbing up a throw pillow from his bed to conceal his hard-on with. 

“Santa Fucks A Naughty Bitch? Hardcore Christmas Dinner Orgy? Christmas Anal? What about this guy dressed as an elf?” Orange goes back to searching for another scene, naming off titles until he spots something interesting enough to stop on. 

“He’s too tall to be an elf.” Chuck scoffs.

“Oh, that ruins it for you? The elf isn’t a realistic height?” Trent laughs, watching as another video starts playing. The man dressed as an elf is seducing a woman dressed as Mrs. Claus, obsessing over her enormous breasts. 

“You guys think her tits are real?” Chuck asks, all three men leaning sideways to follow the camera angle as the elf on screen suckles at the woman’s gigantic nipples.

“NO!” Trent and Orange answer at the same time, laughing as the well-endowed woman tugs at the elf’s prosthetic ears and moans lustily. The trio lose all composure in unison when the costume-clad elf man pulls out a ridiculously oversized dildo in the shape of a Christmas tree, complete with painted-on details of ornaments and lights. “Ooohhh yeah, Mr. Elf. Make my pussy rock around that Christmas tree!”

“I’m out!” Trent announces, throwing both hands up. 

“Yep. Me too.” Orange agrees, vacating Chuck’s desk chair. 

“…I’m still in…” Chuck mumbles sheepishly, quickly reclaiming his spot. 

“UGH!” Trent and Orange can’t file out of the room fast enough, completely finished with Chuck and his Christmas porn. “Have fun with that, dude.” Orange salutes Chuck as he exits, keeping his eyes lowered just in case his friend already has his dick fished out of his pants. 

“Unhhh…deck my halls harder, baby…” Chuck’s too busy watching to turn around and acknowledge his friend’s departure, pausing only long enough to make one last request. 

“MERRY CHRISTMAS! AND CLOSE THE DOOR BEHIND YOU!”


	3. Candy Cane

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt #6: I offered you a candy cane and got turned on watching you suck on it and boy are things awkward now…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The candy cane I have in mind when I describe it here is somewhere between the size of a standard candy cane and one of those big peppermint sticks, so basically going for something thick enough to be more phallic than normal.

“Motherfucking snow! Fuck you winter! Freezing my nuts off out there trying to shovel and what the fuck happens? It’s still snowing and by the time I’m goddamn done the cocksucking plow comes by and then I have to start all over! GODDAMMIT!” Chuck Taylor busts in the front door after no less than ninety minutes of shoveling snow, furiously stomping his boots in the entryway. Snow flurries come rushing in with a huge gust of wind, Chuck cursing even harder with the realization he hasn’t shut the door behind him. “FUCKIN’ BLIZZARD! FUCK DIRECTLY OFF!” Clumps of wet slush fly off Chuck’s boots as he tromps his feet down over and over, more trying to release his frustrations at the current weather conditions than remove the snow. “ORANGE! We’re trapped!. Snowed in! This is it, this is how we die! We’re never leaving the house again! ORANGE? Did you hear me? There’s going to be an avalanche and we’re never getting out! ORANGE? ORANGE!”

“Come inside.” Chuck seeks out Orange’s muted voice and follows it to the kitchen. There he finds his roommate, entire body cloaked in an oversized penguin print fleece blanket. As Chuck gets closer he notices Orange is transfixed with mixing up a concoction in two mugs on the counter. 

“Whassat? Coffee? Irish Coffee? Issit for me? What’s in there? What is it?” Chuck’s peering over Orange’s shoulder, eagerly trying to get a better look at this mystery drink. 

“Chill.” Orange requests softly, still gently stirring the steaming liquid. “First of all, you’re freezing. Back up. And yes, one is for you.” 

“What is it? What is it? What is it?” 

The smaller man groans, confounded by his friend’s neverending state of curious exuberance. “Hot cocoa. The good stuff. Made with milk and cream. Some Bailey’s and some Peppermint Schnapps.” Orange tests his mixture and mulls over the taste, coming to the conclusion that it could use more Bailey’s. “Go sit. I’ll bring it to you. And turn up the heat.” 

“Kay.” Once Chuck’s strolled off Orange can concentrate on finishing off his cocoa creation in peace. Orange knows Chuck better than anyone and he knows Chuck loves his hot drinks to be sickly sweet. Just for his friend’s drink, Orange selects a long, thick peppermint stick out of a basket of Christmas candy Chuck keeps handy on the kitchen counter. He brings it along with the two mugs of cocoa, handing one off to Chuck before settling in on the couch beside him. “What’s this for?” Chuck slides the candy cane aside so he can sample his drink, a pleased grin spreading across his face with the first taste. 

“For extra sweetness, if you want? Or for after? To shut you the fuck up for a minute? Whatever.” Orange watches attentively as his roommate practically chugs down the carefully crafted drink, completely unbothered by the fact that it’s still hot. Choosing to savor his, Orange sips slowly at the warm cup gripped between his palms. With the combination of the blanket he’s swaddled himself inside, the ample amount of alcohol in the cocoa, and Chuck turning up the heat Orange warms up rather quickly. 

“That was fucking good, Orange. Thanks. Is there more?” Chuck swallows down the last bit of his cocoa, setting his mug down on the side table but keeping the candy cane in his palm. 

“I can make you another?” Orange offers, certain he’ll want a second for himself soon enough. 

“Nah, later. Don’t get up yet. I gotta work on this anyway.” Plastic wrapping flies to the floor as Chuck peels away the only thing between him and the peppermint goodness Orange was kind enough to gift him. Watching from the corner of his eye, Orange is abruptly startled by what the visual of Chuck slowly sucking away at the end of a candy cane does to him. His friend slides the red and white striped candy stick in and out of his mouth at an achingly progressive speed, pushing it in further with each idle thrust. “Orange? You wanna watch tv?” Chuck pauses to ask his friend a question, squinting and shrugging at the face Orange is pulling when he turns to face him. “What?”

“Huh?”

“What’s that face for?” 

Orange feels the pink creep across his face, mumbling as he shifts his gaze down into his cocoa. “Nothing.”

“Whatever.” Chuck shrugs and shifts his focus back on the sweet Christmas treat in his hand, once again working away at it enthusiastically. As soon as he thinks Chuck’s distracted enough, Orange returns to staring. He feels guilty as fuck watching Chuck and sexualizing this act in such a way, but something about how his friend is gradually dragging the length of that cane in and out of his mouth has him wholly hypnotized. Orange focuses solely on the fullness of Chuck’s bottom lip and how it flares out and flattens down when pressed against the end of the candy. Each time Chuck draws his hand back to slide the cane out, the length of the stick glistens with his spit. His bottom lip gradually becomes coated in sugary sweetness as he sucks away, so involved in enjoying the peppermint treat he’s completely oblivious to Orange’s gaze. 

It isn’t until Chuck pulls the candy cane from his mouth with an audible pop that Orange recognizes that his dick’s become rock hard from watching his friend suck on the thing. He clears his throat awkwardly, paranoid Chuck could somehow be aware of the state he’s in. Orange is thankful he’s got a mountain of blanket covering his frame, safe from letting on that he’s got the most peculiar boner from watching his roommate mouth at a candy cane. Orange is so lost in studying the way Chuck’s cheeks hollow out when he sucks that it doesn’t even register to him when his friend ceases sucking to ask him a question. “Orange, you want I should get you a candy cane? Orange? Orange? ORANGE!”

“Wha?” Orange tries his best to shake away the mental image of what his cock would look like in place of the candy cane in Chuck’s mouth, his roommate snapping his fingers loudly in front of his face helping to bring him back to reality. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you? I asked if you wanted a candy cane and you’re sitting here staring at me like a mindless zombie.” Chuck laughs before sticking the peppermint stick back between his lips and holding it there, giving it a gentle suck. “Earth to Orange! What is your deal?”

“Nothing.” Finally Orange manages enough conviction to offer up a one-word answer, his shameful hard-on still throbbing beneath layers of fleece. Chuck’s got the candy stick thinned out considerably now that he’s been sucking away at it for several minutes. As he waits for Orange to possibly elaborate, Chuck turns his direction and starts pushing the cane in and out faster, emitting a faint sucking sound with each thrust. Orange can’t stand this torture any longer, looking away as he combs his fingers through his hair. “Would you just finish that fucking thing already?” He begs of Chuck, both confused and ashamed watching his friend do something simple like enjoy a candy cane has stirred up thoughts of how he’d look swallowing down his hard cock instead. 

“Okay, jeez.” Chuck bites off a small section from the thin end of his candy, gently crunching away at it while glaring at Orange. “You’re a biter and not a sucker then?” Chuck asks through a mouthful of candy.

“What?”

“You’re suddenly pissy with me because you think I’m eating it wrong, is that it?” Chuck asks, clearly miffed as to why Orange is so adamant about him finishing his candy cane. 

“Yeah. Sure.” Orange lies, fully aware leaving Chuck in the dark about the truth is much easier than explaining why he has a boner right now. Orange makes a mental note to leave the candy cane off the next batch of spiked hot cocoa, blanket tightly wrapped around his waist as he excuses himself and shuffles off to get rid of a hard-on he’s most assuredly not proud of.


	4. Spiked Egg Nog

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 21: Spiked Egg Nog

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here’s a little story about Chuck and Orange at a Christmas party.

Chuck Taylor recognizes this must be hell. Not only is Orange dragging him out of the house to a holiday party where he’d honestly rather not have to socialize, but his roommate has also forced him to don a terribly scratchy “ugly” Christmas sweater for the themed shindig. “Orange, I barely know any of these people and I am not talking to them if I can help it. I don’t know why you even invited me. We’re going to show up and hang out for a little while, have a few drinks, then dip out. Got it?” Chuck stretches the collar of his sweater, the damn thing far too tight around the neck and making him itch like crazy. “And I hate this sweater. I’m burning it when I get home!” Currently scraping the skin off Chuck’s nipples is a garish red wool sweater with the phrase “Santa’s Favorite Ho” embellished on the front. Forgoing wearing a t-shirt underneath is a decision Chuck’s slowly coming to regret. His eyes dart wildly between his sweater and the one Orange chose for himself, a much softer looking black sweatshirt with an iron-on print of Santa Claus riding a unicorn through space. “Trade with me, bitch!” 

“Fuck off! Won’t fit you anyway.” Orange remains focused on the road as he bats Chuck’s intrusive hand away, concentration fixed on watching how he’s driving through the snowy conditions. 

“You saying I’m too fat to wear your clothes?” Chuck huffs, still swinging his hand at Orange’s forearm.

“No. Didn’t say that. One for you. One for me. Not tradeable.” Orange catches Chuck’s hand in his and deposits it back on his lap, too rapt in wondering why his friend always has to make such self-deprecating comments about his body to be insulted that he didn’t love his sweater. He’d worry about that after the party.

“That’s just a nice way to say I’m too fat.”

“Whatever.” Orange shrugs off Chuck’s comments, the lethargic rise and fall of his shoulders his way of delivering a signal to his roommate that he’s opposed to having this argument right now. “What’s wrong with mingling?” 

“Nothin’ usually. I just don’t really feel like it today.” Chuck’s still picking at the collar of his sweater as he elaborates, working at it to get his neck some degree of relief from the rough material. “When I go places with you I have to do all the talking because you’re so short in conversations. It’s exhausting. Ugh. Talking to people I barely know? Plus you always get tipsy and wander off so don’t do that tonight, asshole!”

“No promises.” 

The moment the pair arrive at the party Chuck’s like a slobbering Bloodhound on a search for liquor. He barely pauses to offer up so much as basic pleasantries as he hurries through the crowded party, shooting off a few informal greetings while making a beeline for what he thinks could be the bar. Orange takes a more direct approach, stopping the first friendly looking person he sees to inquire about where he can get Chuck a cocktail. 

“Oh, sorry dear. Dry party.” The kind woman Orange flagged down offers a courtesy shrug and apology before scurrying off to a crowded corner of the party, leaving Orange perplexed as to how he’s supposed to break this crushing news to Chuck. Orange enjoys drinking and has to admit that this party would be considerably more enjoyable if he could have at least one adult beverage while mingling. Chuck, however? Orange knows his roommate is the kind of person who needs to have some alcohol in him to loosen up and relax enough to socialize, so this news will be devastating. 

Orange strolls across the party at a clip slower than usual, dreading having to tell Chuck he won’t be able to enjoy any liquor after all. When Orange finds Chuck he’s surrounded by several partygoers trying to make small talk with him. Chuck’s busy shoving appetizers in his mouth and nodding, a strained expression painted across his face. “Orange! Oh, thank god! I don’t even know any of those people. They just started yakking at me. Please for the love of Santa Claus and all his elves, tell me you found the bar in this place?”

“Yeah, about that…” Orange sighs, trying to brace himself for the impending outburst Chuck’s sure to make. “Bad news.”

“What? They only have beer? That’s cool, that’ll do.”

“Nope.”

“Just wine? Okay, I like wine. I’ll have a headache tomorrow but it’s cool, which way?” 

“Nope.”

Orange is positive Chuck’s head is going to fly off his body if he keeps looking around so desperately, scanning the party for any sign of a bar. “Whaddaya mean nope, Orange? Just tell me where I can get a fucking drink before I lose my shit!” 

“Can’t.”

“Can’t what?”

“Can’t get a drink.”

“Orange, don’t tell me I can’t have a drink. If this is about that time I got wasted on New Year’s Eve and you had to drive me home I said I was sorry about the backseat and that next year I’d…”

“No liquor. Dry party.” Orange interrupts Chuck’s rant to inform him of the unfortunate truth that he’s not going to be able to drink. 

“What did you say?”  
“No drinks.” Orange repeats, examining the party for the closest exit in case Chuck throws a tantrum. 

Chuck stiffens up immediately, frozen in a rigid pose for several moments before he speaks again. “No booze?” He asks softly, clearly having a hard time processing this information. 

“No booze.” Orange places a few finger foods on a plate and starts eating, watching his friend’s face for any kind of reaction. Chuck doesn’t blow up or overreact like Orange expects. He remains stuck in place, frozen for what seems like an eternity before he finally turns to Orange and speaks.

“Keys. Gimme your keys.”

“You’re not leaving me here.” Orange insists, convinced the news of this being a dry party is more than enough to make Chuck want to flee.

“No, I wouldn’t do that. Just…” Chuck fidgets and thrusts his hand out, growing impatient. “…just give me your keys.”

Orange looks down at Chuck’s open hand, confused. “My keys? You’re not going out for liquor. Don’t bring that here.”

“No, it’s cool. I’m not gonna go anywhere. I just need to go out to the car for a minute and collect my thoughts. That’s all. So, keys? Please?” Chuck’s pleas are drenched in desperation, his fingers wagging back and forth to urge Orange to deposit the keys in his palm. 

“Fine. If you leave me here…”

“I won’t do that. I promise.” Chuck practically yanks Orange’s keys out of his grip, hurrying through the crowd so fast Orange is sure he’s going to knock someone over before he’s through. While Chuck’s gone Orange makes the smallest of small talk with the other party patrons, some he knows well and some he barely knows. This is of no concern to him, he’s barely listening in the first place, distracted by wondering what the hell made Chuck need to rush off so fast. Orange excuses himself once the conversation lags, wandering off to find more appetizers he can eat in a less packed corner of the party. He’s busy enjoying the one and only bacon-wrapped munchie he could find when Chuck rejoins him. “There you are. What, uh…whatcha doin’?”

“There aren’t enough bacon-wrapped goodies at this party.” Orange sighs, mourning the party’s lack of salty treats. 

“That’s great, buddy. I’d love to talk about that more but I need to ask a favor. Can you just stand next to me for a quick minute? Just like, right here…” Chuck moves Orange in place and sets two glasses down on the table in front of them, eyes darting around wildly as he checks to see if anyone’s watching. 

“Why?”

“Just shut up. Stand there and look pretty.” Orange lowers his sunglasses enough to take a better look at what his friend is doing, floored when Chuck pulls a shiny sliver flask from each one of his pants pockets. “What is that? Where did that come from?” Orange scolds his friend in a gruff yet hushed tone, not wanting to draw any unwanted attention to Chuck as he pops open the top of a flask. 

“Shhhh. Be quiet.” 

“You can’t have that in here. Dry party. DRY PARTY. You can’t get wasted here. You’re gonna get us kicked out.” Each flask is labeled with a sloppily drawn letter that looks like it was scrawled on with a sharpie marker. “What’s in those?”

“Well, this one is marked ‘R’ so that’s my rum flask.” Chuck offers up this explanation as if every other person on earth owns flasks marked with permanent marker and that this is totally normal. Orange watches as Chuck pours rum into a glass of egg nog, filling the previously two thirds full glass all the way to the top. “And this one is ‘W’ so that’s my stash of whiskey.” Chuck pours a healthy serving of whiskey into his glass of soda, giving it a mix with his finger before taking a long drink. 

“Stash? Like you keep it…”

“In your car? Well, more specifically in the trunk, yeah.”

“What the fuck?” Orange jostles Chuck by shoving him with his shoulder, outraged that his friend would keep a secret ration of booze in his trunk without running it by him first. 

“What’s the big deal? It’s just for emergencies and this is an emergency.” 

“No, it’s not. C’mon dude! You can’t be sloshed at this party. Don’t drink too much. No more than that.” Orange attempts to wrestle away the flask of whiskey but Chuck’s too fast, he’s already got it back inside his pocket before Orange can get a good grip on it. 

“Just a couple drinks so I can loosen up. That’s all I need.” 

Orange knows what Chuck’s definition of a couple drinks is from past experience, so he leaves his friend to his secret cocktails with two final warnings. “Fine, but you better behave. I’m not dragging you to the car this time if you pass out. And do not make a fool of yourself. I will leave you here.”

“No you won’t.”

“I will.”

“Your face is really cute when you’re angry, you know that? All scrunched up and mad. It’s still real pretty though. ” Chuck holds Orange’s chin in his hand as he takes a big gulp of spiked egg nog, fingers gently caressing the trimmed hair of his roommate’s beard. 

“Flirting won’t make me any less angry. Be good. Don’t make a scene. And don’t let anyone know you’re drinking.” Orange removes Chuck’s hand and returns it to his friend’s side, undeterred by the flattery. 

“You’re a real downer, Orange. I just want to relax. You got me out of the house when I didn’t want to go. What more do you want from me? At least let me enjoy a couple drinks.” With that Chuck shuffles off into the crowd of partygoers just behind them, much more equipped to make small talk now that he’s got some liquor in his hand. 

Orange hangs back just far enough away from his friend that he can keep watch on him. Chuck downs his first two drinks incredibly quickly and only bothers to check in with Orange so he can use him as a human shield again. Orange shakes his head in condemnation as Chuck spikes two more drinks with way more alcohol than is necessary, already convinced that they won’t make it another hour at the party before they get kicked out. 

Chuck’s almost to the bottom of his second set of cocktails when he waves Orange over to the crowd he’s entertaining, slanted against the counter in a tipsy lean as he laughs and motions his friend over. “This is Orange. This is the guy I was telling you about. He’s the best dude.” Orange comes to stand beside his friend reluctantly, back against the counter as he listens to Chuck ramble on about who knows what. “He’s the best guy ever. You…” Chuck points to a random person they’ve both met maybe once or twice in their travels, singling him out. “…you know what I’m talkin’ about. This guy knows. He’s seen Orangie and what he can do. I just love him so much. Do you know he bought me this sweater?” Chuck’s got his arm thrown over Orange’s shoulder now, his inebriated state making the weight of it that much heavier. Orange shrugs him off, shooting him a sideways glance.

“Shut up. People are staring.” He leans over and whispers in Chuck’s ear, multiple sets of eyes already scanning Chuck. Orange shudders as Chuck plants a hand squarely on his ass, giving it squeeze after squeeze as he keeps stammering on about absolutely nothing. 

“And you know, he’s the best. We live together. Did you know that? He lives with me. He’s so great. I love him.” The more Orange tries to swat Chuck’s hand away the harder Chuck grips his butt cheek, Orange doing his best to keep his composure so not to give away the fact that his friend’s hand is concealed, secretly kneading at his ass behind them. 

“Stop it. Shut up.” Orange pleas with him again, talking out the corner of his mouth as he finally gets a grip on Chuck’s wrist. Chuck breaks free with ease, abandoning Orange’s ass to work his hand up the back of his sweater instead. Orange’s losing his tenuous grip on things, Chuck’s hand walking leisurely up the center of his back sending a slow shiver through him. 

“And another thing…he’s a total hunk. I mean, you guys see him, right? Total babe. Such a hunk. Big shoulders. Looks great with his shirt off. Orange, pop your shirt off for the people?” That’s the breaking point for Orange. Drunk Chuck is much less fun when Orange isn’t drunk along with him, and he recognizes that he has to get his friend away from this crowd before he says anything else. 

“C’mon. Let’s go.” Orange pulls Chuck away as judgemental eyes follow them, Chuck’s dead weight slowing them down considerably. 

“Where we goin’?”

“Away. Sorry, folks. He’s on some new meds and not feeling good today. Sorry.”

“I feel great!” Chuck wails as Orange drags him farther away from the group of people. Orange has no idea where he’s taking his friend but as long as it’s somewhere quiet they’ll be just fine. Orange leads his friend to the first bathroom he can find and locks the door behind them, relief washing over him immediately. “You asshole. I told you to keep it down.” 

“I like your butt.”

“What?”

“Your butt. I like it.” Chuck’s leaning against the bathroom door, gesturing for Orange to come closer. “Bring it over here.” He’s tipsy enough that he slurs slightly when he speaks, a mischevious, toothy grin spreading across his face as he makes exaggerated grabbing motions with both hands. 

“No. Not here.” 

“Yes here. Come over here and kiss me, bitch.” Drunken makeout sessions between the pair are commonplace but don’t typically start until they’re safe in the privacy of their home. Orange is hesitant but Chuck’s not sober enough to relent and accept no for an answer. “Make out with me, you little blond bitch!” 

“No! Goddammit, next time we go out in public remind me to check the trunk first.” 

“Shut up! Come kiss me, you coward. Door’s locked. Nobody’s coming in.” Orange reluctantly saunters closer, gradually closing the gap between them. “C’mere. Lemme get my hands on that tight little butt again. I know you like having your ass squeezed. C’mon.” Orange takes two steps closer, laughing softly as Chuck reaches out to removes his sunglasses. “That is totally a flask in my pocket, but I am happy to see you.” 

Drunk Chuck is 100% better at making out than sober Chuck and he’s right, Orange does love it when someone gives his ass their undivided attention. It isn’t that Orange doesn’t want to kiss Chuck, he’d love nothing more than a hot, fast, drunken makeout session right now. He knows damn well Chuck can’t be quiet but decides that maybe if he kisses him hard enough he’ll be able to keep his mouth occupied. Though he’s concerned with being caught Orange still presses his body against his friend’s, Chuck instantly busy cupping both his ass cheeks this time. Orange has to lean up on his toes to reach his taller friend’s mouth, Chuck urging him on by pressing his ass harder and harder with each turn of his wrist. Right away, Chuck’s lips move faster than Orange wants, so he gives his friend’s bottom lip a gentle nip to get him to slow down, earning a gentle whimper from Chuck as he recoils slightly and takes the hint. Orange works them towards the pace he wants to keep, slow and steady. He works Chuck’s lower lip between his and gives it a long, gentle suck as an apology for the bite from earlier. Orange keeps control by strategically placing his hands in places he knows from experience help steady Chuck’s pace, right hand planted against his neck and the left purposefully gripping a handful of his friend’s hair. Their bodies are joined together in a tight embrace, Chuck still holding on to Orange’s firm little cheeks for dear life as his friend works his hands underneath the bottom of his ugly sweater so he can slide his palms up the length of his torso. Both men are too lost in kissing each other to hear the voices beginning to pick up outside the door. Chuck’s just starting to grip his friend’s hips, prompting Orange to grind against him when they hear someone banging against the door. “Who is in there!”

“Ah, shit.” Chuck swears softly as they break apart, disappointed that their makeout session was just getting good when they were interrupted. “HANG ON!”

“Goddammit!” Orange curses as well, pacing as the person on the other side slams on the door again. 

“Just be cool. We’ll walk out and leave. Just let me do the talking.” Chuck assures Orange as he prepares to crack the door open. The pair finds an angry older woman and several other party patrons waiting when the door swings open, all eyeing them down with accusatory glares. 

“What is going on in here?”

“Sorry, lady. I’m legally blind and my friend has to help me aim when I take a whiz so I don’t piss all over the floor.” Chuck blurts out an on the fly explanation that only he could come up with, leaving Orange mortified. He can’t believe he doesn’t die of immediate embarrassment but manages to hold himself together enough to wrangle Chuck out of the bathroom and towards the party. Orange keeps his head down as he yanks Chuck by the arm, desperate to get out of there as fast as possible. Chuck’s as carefree as ever, still flying high on his buzz from earlier as he follows Orange and waves goodbye to the party crowd. “Hey, Orange? Orange. Orange? ORANGE!”

“What?” Orange pauses by the exit just long enough to see what the hell is so important that it can’t wait until they’re outside. 

“Can we finish making out in the car?” Chuck asks hopefully, leaning in to plant a kiss on Orange’s forehead. 

“Fine. Let’s go.” Orange leads Chuck out to the car and deposits him in the backseat. Snow falls down gently as he drives a few blocks away to find a quiet, dark neighborhood to park in. Once parked, he joins his friend in the back, picking up where they left off when they were so rudely interrupted. 

Chuck breaks their kiss long enough to make a simple request. “Can I take this sweater off now? My nips are raw.”


	5. Snowball Fight/I'll Keep You Warm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 10-Snowball Fight and 12-"I'll keep you warm"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a good combination of requests because in my mind no snowball fight is complete without someone getting snow shoved down their pants/shirt. Went with Chuck and Orange.

“Oh look, just what I fucking wanted. A goddamn winter wonderland!” Chuck stands in the doorway of his house looking out at the front yard, examining the numerous drifts and mountains of freshly fallen snow. At least a foot of new accumulation has fallen down overnight, the sloped drift of snow against the front door so high Chuck’s not sure he’ll even be able to open the damn thing. He’s only been out of bed for ten minutes and considering the conditions outside he’s already set to head right back there just as soon as he polishes off his coffee. Chuck scrolls through his phone with one hand as he sips coffee from the other, multiple notifications that literally everything is closed today enough to reinforce his decision to keep on his Pabst Blue Ribbon pajamas and warm fleece robe for the remainder of the day. Chuck’s gradually zoning out as he drinks his coffee and studies the fresh heaps of sparkling white snow. He’s contemplating heading to the kitchen to top off his cup before going back to bed when he sees a small figure cloaked in black moving across the bottom of the driveway. “Fuckin’ Orange?” 

Chuck manages to shoulder the door open just a crack, swearing up a storm as a mass of fluffy white snow falls down onto his bare feet. Chuck can barely see Orange’s whole frame from behind the multiple heaps of snow at the end of their driveway. “ORANGE! Whaddya doin’ out there, lil buddy?” Orange stops moving and turns around at the sound of Chuck’s voice, a shoulder shrug the only answer he offers for Chuck’s question. “C’mere! I gotta tell you something really important!” Orange is dressed in his thick winter jacket and heavy boots, head covered in his fur-lined Elmer Fudd style hat. The snow is still falling down lightly, so his shoulders and hat are both covered in a light dusting of fresh flakes. It takes him several minutes to schlep through the snow-covered driveway and make his way to Chuck, the way he’s nonchalantly dragging his snow shovel behind himself every step of the way certainly not helping make his journey any easier. 

“What?” Orange is breathless by the time he reaches the front door, leaning on the handle of his shovel for support. 

“Ha! You waddle like a stupid fuckin’ penguin, you blond snow shoveling bitch!” Chuck points at his smaller friend as he laughs, clearly amused by this turn of events as he’s usually the one who takes on the task of shoveling their driveway. “Now you know how I feel when I have to go out and shovel. What are you doin’ out here anyway? Everything’s closed today. We can’t go anywhere. No point in shoveling.”

“Whatever.” Orange stands up straight, his shovel falling down into the depths of the snow covering what was once their porch. He glares at Chuck through the narrow opening in the doorway, irritated by the fact that Chuck isn’t at all concerned with his snow removal efforts. “Can’t leave it. Come help me.”

“Over my dead fucking body, bitch! First of all, it’s too cold. And didn’t you hear me? Everything is closed today. Canceled. Shut down. Not open. Finito. Done for…”

“Yeah. Heard you.” Orange interrupts and lowers his sunglasses, shooting Chuck a stern look. “But we can’t just leave two feet of snow at the end of the driveway. We’ll have to go somewhere eventually. Now put on some real clothes and help me.” Orange replaces his glasses and crosses his arms, not prepared to take no for an answer. 

“You just wanna go to the gym, you fuckin’ workout turkey!” 

“Yeah. So what?”

“So they’re not gonna be open! It’s a fucking weather disaster out here, snowstorm city. The gym’s fucking closed, dumbass!” Chuck’s not at all surprised that even in the aftermath of a blizzard Orange is still concerned with going out to work on his glamour muscles. 

“Fine. Then shoveling will be our exercise. Come out and help.” Orange kicks aside some layers of snow, trying and failing to recover his lost shovel.

“You’re not getting my ass out there. I’m staying in these pajamas for the rest of the fucking day. We’ll just call somebody to come plow us out. Even if it takes all day, it doesn’t matter. Like I said, we’re not going anywhere.” Chuck waves his hand at Orange to cement the fact that he’s completely written off the whole day and is absolutely unwilling to set foot out in that snow-coated hell just beyond the door. 

On the other side of the door, Orange has finally found his shovel. “Last time I’m asking you. Come help.” Orange offers Chuck one more opportunity to join him outside, heaving aside shovel after shovel of the snowdrift keeping the door from opening any wider as he waits for Chuck’s answer. 

“I said I’m not doing jack diddly shit today, you pink-faced snow-covered abominable bitch!”

“That’s it.” Orange stomps his foot down into a hill of snow, frustrated. He knows aside from physically dragging Chuck out by his bare feet there’s only one way to get Chuck to come outside, and he’s not below resorting to it. Orange turns as if he’s going to head off the porch, using the cover provided by his back to ball up a huge mound of heavy, wet snow. He takes a moment to really pack it in hard before he acts. “Kay. Guess I’ll just go back out.”

“Yeah, go ahead, you icy little shit shoveler.” Orange watches over his shoulder and waits until Chuck’s got his coffee cup up to his mouth to strike. With his leg, Orange nudges the front door open easily now that he’s cleared some of the snow away. He rears back and pitches the large snowball in his hand straight at his friend’s gut, the heavy wad of wet snow landing against his stomach with a tremendous thud. Orange’s snowball was so big that it flies everywhere, particles of it landing inside Chuck’s hair and all over his robe. A few stray clumps even hit Orange’s sunglasses, but it doesn’t faze him. He’s too preoccupied with laughing at Chuck’s horrified face. 

“YOU MOTHERFUCKIN’ NO GOOD SNOWBALL THROWING COCKSUCKER!” Chuck almost charges out the door straight at Orange but only makes it one foot into the snow before remembering he’s still barefoot! “YOU DUMB BITCH!” Orange tromps towards the steps of their porch and out of Chuck’s reach, holding eye contact with his friend as he sticks his tongue out and reaches for another handful of snow. “Don’t you do it, Orange! Orange! I’m serious! I’m gonna beat your ass when you come inside.” 

“Fight me, bitch.” Orange dares his bigger, taller friend. “C’mon.” He rears back, feigning throwing another snowball just to get Chuck to flinch. As soon as Chuck lifts his head Orange lets it fly for real, this time decking his roommate with a cold, wet ball of snow that lands just below his collarbone. 

“ORANGE YOU BETTER QUIT!” Chuck’s incensed now, cold and angry from being pelted with two snowballs, not to mention how pissed he is about the coffee spilled all over his pajamas. “I swear to god, I’ll come out there and bury your short ass in that mountain of snow at the end of the street!”

“Bring it! I’m not scared.” Orange informs his friend, tone cocky as could be as he packs another snowball in his gloved hands. 

“That’s it, you fucking cute little snowball tossing bitch! You think you’re hot shit! Just wait until I get dressed! I’m gonna pulverize a snowball between your tight little asscheeks!” Chuck flails wildly, his coffee cup careening out the door into the snowy abyss as he tries to shake off his robe. Orange simply pitches another perfectly round snowball at the doorway, but this time Chuck dodges it and slams the door before retreating back into the house. 

Orange is still cracking up at Chuck’s threat to shove a snowball up his ass as he moves across the front yard, stomping through the high drifts as fast as possible to get a head start. He knows there’s not much time before Chuck will surely come storming outside, ready to wage war. To prepare, Orange determines he’s got to find a good spot for cover and pack together as much ammunition as he can as fast as he can. Behind the tall tree is way too obvious, Chuck will surely check there first. Orange decides to post up behind a particularly wide snowdrift at the corner of their house. If he’s found, he can run either direction and probably manage to get enough of a head start to find another hiding spot. Once he’s crouched down in the snow, Orange sets to work making a collection of tightly packed snowballs, clearing away some snow and arranging them one by one in a pile at his feet.

“ORANGE! You smug little fucker! I’m gonna find you. Start a snowball fight with me? You’re gonna be sorry. You shoulda just come inside and gone back to bed with me.” Orange holds his breath as Chuck’s voice gets closer and closer, only daring to breathe once he hears Chuck’s footsteps. He takes a deep breath and steadies himself, snowball in hand and ready to strike. Chuck falls quiet, much to Orange’s dismay. He dares to peek around the edge of the snow hill providing him cover, poking his head out just far enough to catch a glimpse of Chuck heading the other direction. 

“ORANGE! I got two snowballs just for you, buddy. Come out and fight me, like you said! ORANGE? ORANGE! Get your narrow ass out here!” Orange has to make a decision, and quick. Chuck still has his back turned, searching the other side of the backyard. Orange can either keep himself hidden behind his cover and wait until Chuck turns the corner to pelt him with snowballs or he can expose himself and assault his roommate with snowballs from behind when he’s least expecting it. Orange concludes he can’t wait any longer and slowly crawls out from behind the wall of snow concealing his location, thankful when he spots Chuck with his back still towards him. Grabbing up an armful of ammo, Orange takes careful, calculated steps as he gradually makes his way closer to his roommate. Chuck’s still yelling his name and coming up empty as Orange nears, Orange nearly blowing his cover when he sees how Chuck’s dressed. He knows his friend hates being cold, but he nearly erupts in laughter when he notices how many layers Chuck put on in preparation for this battle. The man must have on no less than three pairs of pants and Orange counts at least four hoods belonging to sweatshirts sticking up from the collar of Chuck’s winter coat. Orange manages to bite back his laugh and pauses at a point he thinks is close enough to start pitching from. 

For his first throw, Orange knows he probably rears back way farther than necessary and puts a little too much torque on it, but he really wants to get Chuck’s attention. His first snowball crashes between Chuck’s shoulderblades and erupts into a million pieces. This time Orange is unable to hold back his laughter, nearly doubled over in a fit of giggles as he watches Chuck hunker down in a defensive position as he scans the yard for Orange. “YOU LITTLE SHIT!” Chuck finally spots him, trudging through the thick snow faster than Orange expects him to. Orange keeps his stash of ammunition tucked against his chest as he makes his way around the side of the house, heading back to his original hiding spot. Two snowballs whiz past him as he hurries, neither one finding their intended target. He’s so wrapped up in returning to his cover that he loses track of Chuck’s footsteps, and by the time he thinks he’s safely hidden once again all is silent. Orange doesn’t hear any movement or hear the sound of Chuck’s breathing, making him worry that maybe running back here was the wrong course of action. He hunkers down in his snow bunker, making himself as small and compact as possible in case of an unexpected barrage. Orange is so occupied waiting for Chuck to jump around the side of the snowdrift that he doesn’t notice him advancing from the other side of the house, Chuck taking such small, slow steps that he barely makes a sound. 

Chuck finally gets a measure of revenge, able to bombard Orange with three snowballs before his small friend gets to his feet and makes a beeline for the backyard. “Fuck! How did you get here so fast!” Orange dodges a few more incoming snowballs as he tries to create some distance between them, rounding the corner of their deck hoping to find some shelter there. 

“Get back here, Orange. You asked for this! Come and face me like a man.” Orange lets a few snowballs of his own fly, two of which hit Chuck. Chuck’s too focused on bridging the gap between them so he can throw from closer range to care about the snowballs that nearly hit him in the face, totally fixed on Orange and where he’s trying to hide next. Orange squats down alongside the bottom of their deck, not hidden at all but relieved to at least have something to duck behind if need be. Chuck stands at the other side, staring daggers through him. “Come out and let’s go. Shot for shot. Man to man. C’mon, Orange. You wanna fight? Let’s rock!” Chuck motions for him to bring it as he rounds the corner, busy formulating a plan that he thinks will lure Orange out into the open. 

“Look. I only have five snowballs made and ready to go. I’m setting them down.” Chuck plops his pile of ammo down at his feet as Orange peeks around the corner of the deck, clutching his own group of remaining snowballs for dear life. “Come out. I’m gonna give you as many free shots as you want. No funny business. Look, can you see me?” Orange watches as Chuck bends over and sticks his ass out, reaching back and giving his cheeks a few slaps. “My ass is wide open. Come hit me, bitch! C’mon, you little coward. Give me your best shot!” Chuck wiggles his butt back and forth as he baits Orange, praying that his taunts are enough to get his friend to come out where he’ll have a chance at a fair fight. 

Though Orange is positive this is nothing more than a trap, his hands are starting to get cold and big white flakes are beginning to fall from the sky again, so he decides to take the bait. He removes his sunglasses and carefully stows them away in his coat pocket before making his way closer. Orange is ready, snowball grasped tightly in his hands as he treks through the tall snow on his way to where Chuck is still bent over, staring at Orange from between his spread legs as he wiggles his ass in the air. “You look ridiculous.” Orange laughs as Chuck give his ass a few more hard pats, showing his friend just where the target is. 

“You’re ridiculous. Throw something, Juice. I dare you!”

“You know I wouldn’t hit a vulnerable man.”

“Just hit my ass with a snowball, bitch! I’m begging you, lay one in there you little bastard. C’mon, you little winter hunk, blast my ass!” 

Orange’s first throw is weaker than usual because he can’t stop laughing at Chuck’s insults, that initial snowball landing just past Chuck’s feet. “My grandma can throw harder than that and she’s dead! Try again you little bitch!”

“Fuck you!” Orange rounds off another shot, this one more intentioned and precise than the last. It hits Chuck square in the ass with a loud smack, leaving an imprint of snow on his pants. 

“That’s more like it, you snow chucking dickhead! Hit me again! Lay it in there, bitch!”

Orange shoots off the rest of his premade snowballs in rapid succession, each one landing somewhere between Chuck’s thighs and butt. He’s so distracted by laughing that Orange doesn’t grasp the fact that he’s out of snowballs until he sees Chuck charging towards him, outstretched arms heading straight for his legs. “Shit! Shit! SHIT!” 

“GOTCHA NOW, YOU LITTLE BLOND BITCH!” Chuck gets the upper hand and takes Orange down to the ground, a huge puff of snow exploding up around them as they land hard together. They wrestle around in the deep snow, the both of them trying to make another snowball as well as gain enough momentum to have the advantage, which isn’t working out well for either of them. All they manage to succeed in doing by thrashing around in the snow is thoroughly cover each other in a thick layer of cold, wet slush. Chuck may be bigger and somewhat stronger than Orange, but he certainly isn’t faster than his friend. Orange manages to wiggle out of Chuck’s grip and flip Chuck down onto a huge snowdrift, another shower of powdery flecks raining down on them as he hits.

Orange straddles his friend, hips steady and thighs squeezing either side of his friend’s body in a viselike grip. He moves fast enough that as Chuck’s arms fly up to fight back, Orange grabs both his wrists and pins them over his head. “Gotcha.” Orange moves his hips over Chuck’s groin, bearing down against his friend’s cock as he celebrates what he thinks is a clear win with a victory wiggle.

“Oh no! You got me.” Chuck sings sarcastically, clearly not at all bothered by his current predicament. 

“Why didn’t you wear a hat? Got snow all in your hair.” Orange leans in, using one gloved hand to shake some of the ice crystals out of the layers of Chuck’s dark hair. 

“Who cares.” Chuck’s too engrossed in savoring the heat coming off Orange’s body to be worried about some snow in his hair, the warmth of Orange’s breath against his face enough to momentarily distract him from their snowball war. While having Orange straddle him like this is a major fucking turn on, it’s going to take more than that to distract Chuck from claiming his victory. He’s got a surefire plan that will free his hands and allow him to make his move. As Orange moves his hand over Chuck’s face, Chuck jerks his head up and catches the finger of his glove in his mouth, tugging it off as Orange pulls his hand away. As Orange protests, Chuck spits out the glove and manages to lean forward enough to catch Orange’s forefinger in his mouth, staring Orange dead in the face as he takes it inside his mouth and begins sucking at it gently. 

Orange stops objecting immediately and whimpers softly, leaning closer so Chuck’s neck isn’t so strained. He completely neglects his grip on Chuck’s wrists as his friend’s tongue circles the tip of his finger, rocking his hips back and forth once again as Chuck starts sucking harder and faster. Orange is just starting to feel his cock stir against the front of his jeans when he realizes Chuck’s wrists are no longer in his hand, but by then it’s too late to act. 

“SURPRISE, YOU HORNY LITTLE BASTARD!” Before Orange can even get a hand up in defense, Chuck’s got the waistband of his pants pulled back and smashes a massive handful of cold, wet snow down the back of his jeans. Chuck cackles mercilessly as Orange hops off and wiggles around on his stomach, trying to get some of the snow out of his asscrack. Chuck sits up to his knees, raising both arms in triumph. 

“Fuck you, asshole. That was a low down, dirty distraction!” Orange lunges at him, still pissed that he just received an unwelcome load of snow in a very sensitive area, but smiling nonetheless. Chuck fights off Orange’s fast hands the best he can, the erratic look in Orange’s eyes alerting him to his intentions. 

“No! ORANGE! Don’t you dare!” Chuck swats Orange’s hand away multiple times, but it’s no use fighting. Again, Orange is faster than he is and after tussling for a few moments, he manages to get Chuck’s arms pinned behind his back. 

“Payback, bitch!” Orange returns the favor, depositing a heap of snow down the front of Chuck’s underwear. 

“OH NO! AH! FUCKING COLD! You bitch! At least I didn’t put it down the front!” Chuck’s laughing as he feverishly scoops snow out of his pants, his poor dick buried under the mass of snow Orange shoved in there. “My dick’s gonna freeze! Thanks a lot, Orange! HOLY MOTHERFUCKING NORTH POLE THIS IS COLD! Can we go inside now Juice? It’s snowing again and my dick is cold.” 

Orange feels a wave of guilt wash over him, only just a little ashamed that he played dirty and picked the front to shove his pile of snow down instead of the back. He comes closer to his friend, not at all surprised when Chuck flinches. “Hey. Truce, okay?” Orange knows the right thing to do is make it up to him, and he knows exactly how Chuck likes to make peace. “C’mon. Let’s go inside. I’ll keep you warm.”

The pair leave the battlefield and slog through the tall drifts, making their way back up to the house. Orange kicks off his boots as Chuck begins the arduous task of removing his multiple layers of clothing, giving Orange plenty of time to set his plan in motion. “Gimme ten minutes. Then come upstairs.” 

“Whatever you say, Stone Cold Steve Austin.” Chuck deadpans in his best Rick Sanchez voice, too busy yanking off his second layer of pants to notice just how fast Orange steals away. 

Orange races upstairs at an uncharacteristically fast pace, electricity still rushing through his body from earlier when Chuck took his finger inside his mouth. If Chuck was cold, Orange intended to warm him up. He heads to the upstairs bathroom and turns on the hot water in their walk-in shower, letting it run to get nice and steamy. Once the water’s hot Orange tosses in a few aromatherapy shower steamer tablets, the variety infused with eucalyptus and spearmint oils that Orange knows Chuck likes the scent of. Orange figures this is the least he can do to make up for giving his roommate a frosty dick, something he plans on atoning for once he gets Chuck inside the walls of the shower. 

Chuck does as he’s told and saunters upstairs after waiting around ten minutes, dressed in nothing but his boxer shorts now that he’s successfully shed all his layers. He brings along a bottle of whiskey, hopeful some swigs of liquor will help warm him up faster. “Orange? Where ya at, buddy? Let’s get under a blanket! My dick’s still cold! We can watch a movie and drink whiskey and jerk each other off. Orange? Orange!”

“Shower.”

“Shower?”

“Shower. C’mon.” Chuck follows the sound of Orange’s voice to the larger of their two bathrooms, freezing in place when he gets to the doorway. Orange is waiting for him inside, holding the door of their walk-in shower open as an invitation. He’s still dressed in just his tight jeans, but they’re sitting in that perfectly low sweet spot that Chuck loves to see them dropped down to. Chuck stands in the doorway awkwardly, mouth agape as he takes in the scene. He doesn’t find the will to speak until Orange clears his throat and motions towards the clouds of steam billowing out of the shower. 

“For me?” Chuck comes closer, the comforting scent of his favorite essential oils hitting him as he makes his way towards Orange. 

“For us.” Orange grabs the bottle of whiskey from Chuck’s hand and takes a swig from it before setting it aside. “You said you were cold. Can’t have that. I’ll warm you up. C’mon.” Orange pulls Chuck closer, his hands gripping his friend’s waist tightly. He helps him shimmy off his boxers and urges him inside the warmth of their shower, working off his own jeans and following just behind him. Orange barely has the door latched shut behind them when Chuck leans in and starts kissing him, both hands cradling Orange’s face as he kisses him hard and fast. Orange indulges his friend’s need to get that initial kiss out of his system, only breaking away after several moments go by and Chuck finally slows down his pace. “Hey, before we get too hot and heavy I want to apologize. Sorry I put snow down the front of your pants. You forgive me?”

“Yeah. Sorry I smashed snow in your buttcrack.” Chuck slides his hands down Orange’s body, working them around so he can claim two handfuls of his friend’s firm ass in his grasp. “Also, sorry I called you a pink-faced snow-covered abominable bitch. You forgive me?”

Orange can’t help but laugh, rocking his hips forward as Chuck squeezes his ass harder. 

“I forgive you.”

“Good. Now warm up my dick!”


	6. "I'll Keep You Warm"/"I Won't Let You Fall"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 12: “I’ll keep you warm” 19: “I won’t let you fall”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I went heavier on “I won’t let you fall” because I already used “I’ll keep you warm”, but it’s added in at the end. As soon as I saw Orange and Trent ice skating together I had my inspiration for this prompt. Where was Chuck? Probably filming them or nursing a hangover? Most likely, but my headcanon is he’s afraid to get on the ice. For this prompt Orange feels completely comfortable skating and Chuck isn’t having it. “Romantic” to me means being caring, supportive, and patient with someone you love, so there’s an abundance of that here to convey their kind of romance.   
> Side note: I struggle a little writing Orange’s dialogue because I know dude doesn’t say much, but that doesn’t always work. So the best way around it I can come up with is likening him taking his sunglasses off to speak to when he takes his sunglasses off in the ring. That means he’s taking things more seriously.

Chuck Taylor doesn’t understand why people enjoy ice skating so much. While his friends skate around the perimeter of the rink, Chuck sits on the sidelines and watches. He’s perfectly content to keep his ass firmly planted in a chair, sipping hot coffee and tracking Orange and Trent as they skate in circles. “Oh no. Motherfucker!” Chuck spots Orange rounding the bend, closing in on the entrance bear where he’s sitting. He knows what’s coming, Orange is going to stop and try to lure him out onto the ice for the third time today. Chuck lowers his head and fidgets with the lid of his coffee cup, hoping maybe if he doesn’t make eye contact Orange will just keep going. 

“C’mon.” No such luck. Chuck looks up to find his friend waiting for him, arm outstretched to invite him onto the rink. “Let’s go.”

“No. Orange, I told you already! You’re not getting me out there. Not happening. I’m staying here where it’s safe.”

“It’s safe. C’mon.”

“No. I’m not falling down on my ass!” 

“I didn’t fall. Trent either. C’mon. It’s fun.” Orange brings his arm closer, wiggling his fingers to encourage Chuck to take his hand. 

“No. It’s too cold out there. And there are way too many people. I’m just gonna stay back here and wait until you guys are ready to go.” 

“Put ‘em on.” Orange motions nonchalantly towards the pair of ice skates he rented in Chuck’s size. They remain down just beside his feet, still unused. 

“Goddammit, Orange! I don’t wanna ice skate.”

“Why?”

“I just don’t.”

“Why?”

“Orange, don’t start this shit. I have a hangover today and I don’t wanna play this game.”

“Then answer. Why?” Orange knows exactly how to provoke Chuck into offering up a more detailed answer when he’s being difficult, years of living together having supplied him with enough knowledge about his friend to last a lifetime. 

“Because I don’t think I’m going to be any good at skating, okay? And I don’t wanna get injured!” Chuck yells at his friend, revealing what had been too embarrassed to admit to Orange earlier in the day. “ I don’t want you and Trent and literally everyone here to see me be a big fucking failure. I’m not planning on falling down on the ice today and busting my ass, that shit’s gotta hurt! And ice skates are super dangerous! Those blades are sharp as fuck! With my luck, I’d either cut off my own leg or slice someone else open. No fucking thanks. I’m fine right here, buddy.” 

Orange takes several moments to consider what Chuck just told him, deciding he’s not ready to give up on getting his roommate out on the ice with him. He removes his sunglasses slowly and sets them down in the empty seat beside Chuck. Leaning on the frame of the entrance, Orange maintains eye contact with his friend as he speaks. “Is that why you don’t wanna come out there? You don’t think you’re good enough? I know you can do it, you’re good at everything once you put a little effort in. You’re scared? It’s not scary, dude. I’ll skate with you.”

“No way.”

“I didn’t rent you those skates for nothing. You’re coming out with me. It’ll be fine. I haven’t ice skated since I was a little kid and I didn’t fall once. You can do it. I’ll help you. I won’t let you fall.” Orange does his best to persuade Chuck to come skate with him, hopeful that his reassuring words will be enough to dispel his friend’s fears. Once again he offers an open hand to his friend, waiting patiently for him to accept. 

Chuck swats Orange’s hand away, irritated that his friend isn’t dropping this. “Just leave me alone, Orange! I don’t want to. You can skate just fine because you’re like, a million times more graceful than I am. I’ll look like some kinda big fat dopey jackass out there. I’m a grown man. I can’t be out there with you guiding me around.”

“Why not? Let’s go. C’mon. It’s fun, I promise. Nothing bad is going to happen. I’ll have you. We can even get you one of those walkers like the kids are using for support…” 

“Fuck you, Orange! Just get outta here!” 

“I don’t mean it as an insult. I’m just trying to help.” Both men fall silent then, Chuck offended by the mere suggestion he use a walker to skate and Orange quietly discouraged by Chuck’s total lack of will to even attempt something new. Trent skates by, landing a playful smack on Orange’s butt as he glides past. 

“C’mon Chuck. Come skate, you big dumb bastard!” Trent shoots off a few words of encouragement as he skates away, Chuck shooting a middle finger towards his partner in response.

“Fuck both you guys. I’m going back out to the car.” Chuck’s halfway out of his seat and ready to charge off when Orange grabs his forearm to stop him. Pausing, Chuck looks back towards his friend to find Orange with the most pitiful, pleading expression on his face. “Don’t you give me that face. Them puppy dog eyes ain’t working on me this time, Orange!”

“I’m going back out with Trent. We’re gonna skate for ten more minutes. Then I’m coming back over and I want you to have those skates on your feet. I’m taking you out there with me.” Orange holds Chuck by the shoulders and pushes him back down into his chair. He reaches down and picks up Chuck’s pair of ice skates, setting them down right in front of his friend. “Don’t say another word. Just put the damn things on and be ready. You’re skating with me and I’m gonna help you. Quit being a little bitch and have some fun with me today.” 

Chuck rolls his eyes and begins to object but Orange is too quick for him. He covers Chuck’s mouth with a finger, bringing his face down to the same level as his friend’s. “Shh. You’re skating with me today. You’ll be safe. I won’t let you fall.” Orange brushes his roommate’s hair aside and presses a tiny, soft kiss against his forehead before skating away, leaving Chuck with a churning feeling in his stomach. Orange is always overly kind and patient with him, even when he acts like a childish asshole. As he watches Orange skate away effortlessly, guilt starts washing over him. Here Orange wants him to try something different, works to encourage him and make him feel included and what does Chuck do? Act like a dick. 

As Chuck works his feet inside the ice skates and tries to figure out how to tie the damn things, he makes a mental note to apologize to Orange later. Once he’s got his skates on, Chuck sits and watches as his friends skate together. He smiles as he watches them join hands and skate in a circle, instantly warmed by the way both men grin and laugh as they share a moment together. At that moment, Chuck realizes Orange is right and he’s been missing out by sitting on the sidelines. 

Ten minutes goes by fast, and before Chuck’s psyched himself up enough Orange is back. Chuck’s instantly comforted by the huge smile on his friend’s face, that unwavering grin paired with the fact that Orange is once again offering up his open hand more than enough to convince Chuck to get up and join him. The accomplished look on Orange’s face as he leads his friend out on the ice helps Chuck momentarily forget his fears about falling. “I got you. We’ll go really slow and stay on the outside part where beginners skate.” Orange tells him, nodding towards the rink to encourage Chuck to put his skates on the ice. Chuck’s nowhere near prepared to start moving yet, so when Orange slides back out onto the rink with his arms in his grasp, Chuck has a mini freakout. 

“NO. NOPE! NOT READY. ORANGE!” Chuck resists and pulls Orange back as he steadies himself. 

“You don’t even have your feet on the ice yet.” 

“I’m not ready.”

“Yes, you are. We’re going. I’m holding you. One foot at a time. When you’re used to it then we’ll skate. I’m gonna be in front of you the whole time. Don’t worry.”

“Hold my waist?” Chuck asks Orange, staring down at his feet as he imagines how terrifying putting them onto the ice is going to be.

“Why?”

“Because I’m taller than you. You hold my waist and I’ll lean on your shoulders. Plus I’ll need my arms freed up so I can catch myself in case I fall down!” Chuck puts his hands on Orange’s shoulders to poise himself, taking several deep breaths to prepare. 

“You’re squeezing me so hard, dude. We’re not even skating yet.” Orange can’t help but laugh softly at the absolute death grip Chuck’s applying on his shoulders.

“Sorry. Don’t wanna fall.”

“I told you, I’m not gonna let you fall down. Let’s go. We’re moving.” Orange skates back and guides Chuck by the waist, bringing him to the edge of the rink. “Left foot. Let’s go.”

It takes Chuck an eternity to finally place his foot on the ice, but he eventually manages to put one skate out there. “Good. Now come a little closer and put the other foot down.” Orange wants to pull him out and lead him onto the ice, but he doesn’t want to scare Chuck off, so he waits patiently and lets his friend go at his own pace. 

“Orange, I’m gonna fall. I’m gonna bust my ass! It’s too much, I can’t do it.” Chuck’s hesitant, unsure and shaky on his feet. 

“You’re fine. Right foot and then we’re gonna start skating. It’s easy. I got you.” Orange does his best to offer his friend support as he gingerly places his other foot on the ice. “There. You’re on. Now we’re moving. We’ll go really slow. Just hold on and glide across the ice. When you’re comfortable you can let go and try it on your own.”

“NO FUCKING WAY, ORANGE! You’re not letting go of me.” Panic spreads over Chuck’s face as he looks up at Orange for the first time since his feet met the ice, clearly terrified at the idea of skating without his friend’s help. 

“Okay. Okay. We’ll make one trip around the rink and then we’ll see how you feel. Let’s go.” How the fuck Orange can skate backwards perplexes Chuck, the idea of even skating forward still entirely frightening to him. “Just let me guide you and all you’ll have to do is move your legs just a little to keep going forward. Real easy.”

“How?”

“How what?”

“How do I move my legs, like HOW?”

“Just a little forward, and maybe out just a tad, I mean…I guess it’s hard to describe…you just do it.”

“That’s a lot of fucking help, Juice. Thanks a lot.”

Orange leads Chuck out just past the entrance, mindful of the other people on the ice. He keeps them both steady and makes sure they stay close to the wall in case Chuck needs to stop. “Look at me. Don’t stare at your feet.”

“I feel a lot better watching my feet.” Chuck protests, keeping his eyes glued on his skates as he warily observes how they move on the ice.

“But you don’t need to. They’re not going anywhere. Look up here.”

“No.”

“Yes.” 

“No. Motherfucker, you’re going to make me fall!” Chuck wobbles slightly as he argues with his friend, but Orange keeps his word and stops to help him regain his composure before they keep moving. 

“Up here. With me.” 

“Orange!”

“Chuck!”

“Goddammit, Orange! Just let me watch my feet. I almost ate it. This is scary as fuck! I gotta watch my feet. You’re moving too fast!”

“We’re barely moving at all. We haven’t made it ten feet from where we started. Just…” Orange takes a hand away from Chuck’s waist and uses it to cup his friend’s chin, bringing his head back up so he can look up into his friend’s eyes. There’s still plenty of dread on Chuck’s face, so to help ease his fears Orange extends a warm smile to his friend as they lock eyes. “…just keep your eyes on me. Stay right here. You don’t need to stare at the ice. Look at me.” 

Orange’s insistent reassurance helps ease his anxiety, and the little bastard always looks so pretty when he smiles that Chuck can’t help but follow his instructions and match that smile with one of his own. Chuck’s so wrapped up in the distraction Orange’s huge grin provides that before he even knows it, his friend as led them almost halfway around the perimeter. Orange has him feeling confident enough that he loosens the death grip he’d been applying on his friend’s shoulders. Chuck’s so comfortable that he forgets where they are and what they’re doing as he slips his hands behind Orange, cradling the back of his friend’s neck with his palms. “I guess this isn’t so bad.”

“Told you.” 

Orange and Chuck have only managed to make it about two-thirds of the way around the rink when Trent passes them for the fifth time, slowing down as he glides past them so he can reach out and give Chuck’s butt a slap. “You asshole! Keep your hands to yourself. If you make me fall down I swear…Orange, next time he comes around I’m tripping him.”

Chuck overreacts but doesn’t waver, and Orange is proud of him for keeping his balance. “You’re doing such a good job. Don’t ruin it. And maybe lay off the swears? There’s a ton of kids out here.”

“Ah, shit! Sorry.”

“Good job.”

Chuck slips a few times before they complete a full journey around the rink, but Orange is there to keep him steadied and makes certain he doesn’t go crashing down to the ice. Eventually, they’re right back where they started. Chuck’s ready to take his skates off the minute they reach the entrance, but Orange has other plans. “You wanna go again? I won’t make you go alone, I’ll come with you. I’m just gonna skate beside you this time, okay?”

“No. Orange…that was really scary even with your help. I don’t think I can do it on my own.”

“Yes, you can. I know you can. C’mon. You can hold my hand.”

“Orange, I’m still hungover. I’m tired. That was hard. And it’s fucking cold in here, I’m freezing my ass off.” Chuck resists, but Orange is never one to give up easily. He’s positive if he offers the right kind of incentive he’ll convince his friend to make one more trip around the rink with him. 

“How about if we make a deal?” Chuck recognizes that particular grin his roommate flashes him, raising his eyebrows as Orange continues. “Skate around the rink with me one more time and when we get back home I’ll warm you up.”

“Warm me up or warm me up?”

“Warm you up.” Orange traces his fingertips across Chuck’s palm before claiming his friend’s hand in his, squeezing it tight. 

“You mean…”

Orange leans closer before he elaborates, his mouth to Chuck’s ear as he describes in vivid detail exactly what he intends to do once they make it back home. “I mean spiked hot cocoa. I mean a pillow and blanket fort bigger than any we’ve ever made before. I mean I’m gonna strip your clothes off and give you one of those hot, slow, suck your soul right out of your body kinda blow jobs I know you love.”

“FUCK YEAH! LET’S GO!” This time it’s Orange who has to grab Chuck for support as his friend pulls him across the ice, gripping his hand tight as they skate off together.


	7. "Ho Ho Ho!" "...What Did You Call Me?!?"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 2-"Ho Ho Ho!" "...What Did You Call Me?!?" This one was requested by my dear friend Emil aka jon-heel-moxley on Tumblr.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This prompt request is nothing but smut. If you’re not into that then seriously, don’t click on this read more. This took me forever and I’m glad I finally got it finished because it’s for someone special. I hope they and everyone else will enjoy it. I haven’t written smut like this in a long, long time so I hate it.

“Holy shit that feels fucking amazing! Yeah, suck my cock you little Christmas slut! You’re such a good ho ho ho.” 

Trent stops abruptly, letting out a displeased moan against the dick in his mouth. Chuck’s cock slides from his mouth with a loud, wet pop, Trent quickly shifting so he’s sitting on his knees to be eye to eye with his partner. “What the fuck did you call me?” Trent’s certain he didn’t just hear Chuck call him what he thinks he called him. 

“Aw, what the fuck! Why’d you stop swallowing my dick! And what the shit is up with that face? Why are you mad?” Chuck’s trying his best to fake an innocent smile through his laughter, Trent’s blow job halting outrage hilarious to him. 

“What did you call me? Say it again.” Trent’s clearly pissed by his friend’s playful name-calling, Chuck’s pleasure high from getting his cock sucked so hard nearly making him forget what day of the week it is, let alone what he just called Trent. 

“Huh?” 

“You called him a ho.” Orange speaks for the first time since all three men retired to the bedroom, up until that statement beyond content to silently watch Trent suck Chuck’s dick. He sighs and removes his sunglasses, the only thing he’d bothered to leave on before they piled into bed together. “And a slut. Guessing that’s why he’s mad.”

“Thanks, Orange.” Trent offers his smaller boyfriend a thoughtful nod before he returns his gaze to Chuck, staring daggers straight through him. 

“Welcome, buddy. Can we get back to the fuckin’ though?” Orange shifts in bed, leaning back to get comfortable. Chuck and Trent squabble constantly, so Orange knows it might take a bit of arguing before there’s a cock in Trent’s mouth again. He silently wonders if he should sneak in a quick nap while they fight, completely uninterested in anything that doesn’t involve banging. “Wake me when we’re boning.”

“Orange. Orange! Don’t you dare fall asleep!” Chuck elbows the blond lump beside him before focusing back on Trent. “I called you a Christmas ho. HO HO HO! Like, ho! Merry Christmas! Happy holidays! Ho ho ho, good job blowing me, you look really hot swaying your ass back and forth as my cock slides down your throat. You know what I meant!” 

“You’re going to sit here and call me a ho? You? Chuck Taylor? Of all people? You think you’ve got any place calling another human being a ho? You jerk off in the back of Ubers. You begged me to suck your dick. If anyone so much as mentions one of your kinks you get a hard-on! And you just called me a ho?” Trent’s not opposed to some dirty talk in bed, he’s certain in the heat of the moment he’s let his fair share of it fly over the years. There was just something about the way his partner called him a ho that was really bothering him, especially when Chuck was literally the horniest slut he’d ever met in his life.

“You’re swallowing my cock while wearing a Santa Claus hat, Trent. I was just encouraging you!” 

“You’re wearing one too! Orange told us we had to wear them! I forgot I even had it on.” Trent yanks the red and white hat off his head, throwing it haphazardly across the bed. “Apologize.”

“For what? You’ve called me worse than that!” Chuck crosses his arms, unwilling to budge.

“Apologize if you want your dick sucked.” Trent places his hands on his hips to show his boyfriend he’s just as reluctant to yield. “Apology or you don’t get to fuck me.”

“You wouldn’t.” Chuck fumes, pointing a lone finger at his partner. 

“You guys are so fucking stupid.” Orange chimes in again, this time sporting Trent’s discarded Santa hat when his two boyfriends turn to face him. 

“Shut up, Orange.” Trent and Chuck yell in unison before returning to their stalemate. 

“Why are you taking this so personally?” Chuck finally asks, leaning forward to give Trent’s inner thighs a gentle massage. “I’m just joking.”

“Still pissed me off. I’m mad at you.” Trent’s not letting Chuck’s distraction tactic sidetrack him from the fact that he’s still irate. 

“Oh, you’re still pissed? Fine, be pissed.” Chuck’s face changes, the playful twinkle in his eye and wide smile long gone as he quits rubbing at Trent’s thighs and gives them a few hard slaps instead. “Be mad. Be fucking angry. Get hot!” Chuck shoves Trent’s chest, the sharp sound of Chuck’s palms making contact with his boyfriend’s pecs ringing out powerfully in the otherwise hushed room. “You’re mad at me! Good! Fucking great! Be angry.” 

“What the fuck, dude?” Trent covers his chest, squinting as he glares at Chuck and tries to understand what the hell he’s getting on about. 

“What the fuck? You know what the fuck!” Chuck jolts forward, lunging towards Trent until he’s face to face with him. One hand grips at Trent’s ponytail, giving it a few possessive tugs as he wraps his boyfriend’s hair around his fist. “Stay pissed. I want you mad. I love you when you’re angry. You know why?” Chuck pinches Trent’s chin in his other hand, holding his face securely in place. 

Trent’s eyes narrow as Chuck yanks that fistful of hair harder yet, unable to hold back a contented whimper as it dawns on him what Chuck wants from him. Some of the best fucks they’ve ever had have come when they’ve recently argued, were fighting earlier that day, or when one or both went to bed mad at the other. Hatefucking might be a harsh term for what they do when they’re angry, but it’s what Chuck wants out of him, and Trent is still seething enough to be more than eager to fulfill his request. “Why?” Trent finally asks, voice husky. He knows what Chuck wants, but he needs to hear him say it. Filthy talk always sounds so much better coming out of Chuck’s mouth than anyone else’s. 

There’s a stillness between the three men for several moments as Chuck stares at Trent, fire in his eyes as he thinks over whether to answer Trent or shove his dick back in his mouth. Orange props himself up and shimmies closer, staying silent but carefully observing everything happening between his boyfriends, prepped to jump in when the moment arrives. 

“I want you to be pissed. I want you so mad that you turn around and ride my dick harder and faster than you ever have before! You’re pissed at me? Good. Use it. Take all that anger and fuck the shit outta me, Trent. Do it, you fucking angry bitch! I dare you!” Chuck punctuates his heated words by rearing back and landing a hard slap across Trent’s cheek, a wicked smile spreading across Chuck’s face as Trent laughs softly, slowly bringing his eyes back to his boyfriend. 

“Yeah?” Trent asks, his tone strong as he stares down his partner. 

“YEAH!” Chuck shoves him again, with more force and intention this time. “Take every bit of your anger and bring it up here. Fuck me. Do it! Bring that ass up here and show me how pissed off I make you, bitch! You mad at me? Show me. Do it, you fucking HO HO HO!” 

“That’s it!” Trent’s even more irate than earlier and moves swiftly. He works Chuck’s fist out of his hair and swats his arm away with a low growl, shoving Chuck back down to the bed before he has a chance to react. Trent keeps him in place with a forearm against his chest, grinding his teeth in anger as he comes closer. “You’d love it if I rode the shit out of you, wouldn’t you? You fucking needy bastard. Anything to get your dick inside me, huh? You goddamn slutty ass bitch! Call me a ho one more time and you’ll be sorry you ever asked me to sit on your dick. Do it, bitch! I dare you.” 

“Do it.” Orange chimes in softly, moving closer yet to the two men in bed with him. 

Chuck lifts himself to a sitting position, still rock solid cock jutting up towards the heavens. He steadies himself for what’s about to come and licks his lips before speaking, staring Trent dead in the eyes as he lets the words loose. “You’re a fucking no good, dirty, candy cane sucking, elf looking, Santa’s lap sitting, cookie eating, dick nog swallowing, whore ass HO HO HO, Trent!”

“Fuck you!” It’s Trent’s turn to slap Chuck across the face, landing a blow twice as hard as the one Chuck painted across his cheek moments ago. Chuck grins wildly, eyes bigger than they’ve ever been as he locks eyes with Trent. 

“Holy shit.” Orange whispers, working his hand up and down his cock slowly. 

Chuck glances down at Orange, a simple nod between them a clear sign they share the same thought. With confirmation that his smaller boyfriend is on the same page, he focuses back on getting Trent to take his frustrations out on his cock. “Fuck you! Do somethin’ about it, bitch! Your dick’s hard as fuck. You can protest all you want but you love it when I call you a fucking ho. Stop pretending. Turn around and spread that ass open for me. Fuck my cock like it owes you an apology. Ride it until you get one, you holiday ho!” 

“Do what he says.” Orange advises Trent, reaching up to place his discarded Santa hat back on top of his head. “Now you look the part. Ho ho ho.” 

“You’re both fucking assholes!” Trent gives Chuck another hard shove, leaving a faint mark on his friend’s chest in the wake of the contact. “You need an angry fuck? That’s what you want? Fuck you! You’re gonna get it.” Trent wastes no time swinging his legs over Chuck’s body, turning so his back faces both Chuck and Orange. There’s a pair of hands gripping Trent’s cheeks immediately, kneading them roughly as he slides his body into position. Chuck’s rock solid cock pulses against his ass as he settles into place. Trent makes sure to grind his hips slowly so the length of Chuck’s dick drags over his cheeks with every movement. It’s only a few short moments before Trent feels another hand join in, glancing over his shoulder to watch as Orange works a lubed hand up and down Chuck’s cock. Once he’s got Chuck’s dick good and wet, Orange shifts concentration to applying a generous amount of lube to Trent, slowly working one finger then two inside Trent’s tight hole to help prepare him. 

“I’ll do that Orange. I think our ho ho ho would love it if you sucked him off while I get him ready to ride my dick.” Chuck’s still busy barking out orders like he’s the one in charge, but Trent knows once he has his friend’s cock buried balls deep inside him, that’ll all change. 

“Shut the fuck up, Chuck. You’re such a bossy dickhead.” Trent slides his knees a little farther apart, lowering his body just a little more. Trent’s anger hasn’t subsided in the least, but the euphoria of Orange lazily sucking at the tip of his cock while Chuck steadily works two long fingers in and out of his ass nearly makes him forget what year it is. The two men working in tandem to make him come apart is a delicious distraction, but Trent hasn’t forgotten the heat in Chuck’s words from earlier, all of them replaying in his head as he comes back around. Trent reaches behind his body to swat Chuck’s hand away, Chuck letting out a tiny, frustrated whimper when he does. He’s still pissed at Chuck and doesn’t want to give him the satisfaction of fingering him any longer, he knows how much Chuck loves prepping his ass to take his dick and isn’t letting him have the gratification tonight. Trent’s content to let Orange continue working his cock deeper into his mouth all he wants, though. After all, Orange didn’t really do anything wrong and the boy is fucking amazing with his tongue. “Fuck you, Chuck. You want me to fuck you like I hate you, don’t you? Like I’m fucking pissed? That’s how you want it? Hard? Fast? Fucking angry fucking?”

Orange lets Trent’s cock pop out of his mouth just long enough to offer one last, soft “Holy shit.” before he takes Trent’s dick back in, this time slowly working the length of it down until it’s hitting the back of his throat. 

“Yeah, you slutty bitch. Give me your worst. Ride my cock like you hate it. Stop talking about it and do it, you fucking dirty ho!” With Chuck’s obscenity soaked encouragement lighting a fire underneath him, Trent positions Chuck’s head at his entrance and starts sliding his hips down, using Orange’s muscled shoulders to steady himself as he begins taking his cock. Orange flattens his body down to the mattress moans, Trent’s cock twitching against his throat as he does. He works Chuck’s length in painstakingly slowly, as much to tease Chuck as to appease Orange. The pretty little blond looks so content deep throating his cock that he’s dreading moving too quickly and taking his dick out of that hot mouth of his. 

Trent lets Orange swallow his cock for a few moments longer as he works Chuck’s cock in, offering Orange some of his much wanted praise as he reluctantly slides his cock out of his mouth. “Orange, that was fucking amazing. You give the best blow jobs on the planet, little buddy.”

“Hey!” 

Trent ignores Chuck’s whine as he cups Orange’s face in his hands. “You wanna watch me fuck this cock, don’t you? Want me to ride it like there’s no tomorrow?” Orange offers a warm smile and nods, giving Trent’s tip one last long, wet kiss before he brings himself up to his knees. Trent starts riding Chuck’s cock immediately, showing no hesitation whatsoever as he begins riding him hard and fast. Chuck’s panting and moaning behind him, hands frantically gripping at his partner’s sides as his cock slides inside that wonderfully tight ass deeper and deeper with every rock of his hips. 

“Yeah. Fuck him harder.” Orange strokes his own cock with one hand, licking a healthy stripe of spit across his other so he can reach down and use it to jerk off Trent. 

Trent doesn’t need Orange’s direction to shift into the next gear, he’s already beginning to fuck Chuck’s cock even faster. He takes Chuck’s thick dick balls deep with every thrust of his hips, their bodies slamming together as Chuck starts bucking his hips up desperately. Chuck’s moans devolve into slutty cries, his knuckles white as he grips Trent’s ass tight. Trent’s so wrapped up in how feverishly he’s fucking his boyfriend’s cock that he blocks out the sound of Chuck’s low pitched cries and Orange’s soft little moans, completely lost in how astonishing it feels every time the girthy cock inside him hits the right spot. 

“Fuck, you’re the best cock riding ho Santa ever brought me, baby.” Chuck manages to produce one more festive and filthy phrase between ragged moans, reminding Trent why he was angrily fucking Chuck in the first place. Trent slows, sliding Chuck’s cock all the way inside him and pausing. He stays that way, his boyfriend’s cock buried deep in his ass as Orange slowly works a fist over his dick. He rocks back and forth gradually, grinding Chuck’s cock inside him. “Fuck you, I’m gonna cum so hard if you keep doing that.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, oh…fuck…”

Trent falls still then, pausing again. “Beg.”

“What?”

“Beg. I wanna hear it.”

Chuck’s silent for a few moments, fingers still digging in Trent’s hips as he searches for the words that’ll make his friend keep going. “Fine. Please. Please keep fucking me. You feel so amazing. You fucked me so hard I’m about to cum like a fountain. Fuck me, please! I’ll never call you a ho again if you just make me cum, please baby?” 

Trent’s happy that not only did he get Chuck to beg, but he also got him to half-assed backpedal, and that’s more than enough to get him to keep moving. He starts fucking Chuck vigorously again, Chuck thrusting his hips up to meet Trent even harder his time. It only takes a few more minutes of frenzied fucking before Chuck’s bellowing out obscenities as he cums, Trent continuing to ride his cock just as fast through his orgasm. 

Once Chuck’s come back down to earth he pushes Trent off by his hips, ready to return to instructing his two boys. “You still angry? Still pissed?” He asks Trent, watching over his shoulder as Orange continues stroking his cock. Chuck rears back and gives Trent’s ass an overly hard slap, Orange and Trent both whimpering at the loud smack the hit makes. “Stay pissed. Stay fucking irate.” Chuck slides around Trent and closes in on Orange, collecting his face in both hands. “See this pretty little bitch? He loves sucking your cock. He called you a ho too. What are you gonna do about it?” Orange’s expression is blissful as Chuck strokes his face, Orange taking one of Chuck’s thumbs inside his mouth and sucking at it lazily. “I say you fuck his mouth and fuck it hard. Shove your dick down his throat. I want you to fuck his mouth so hard you cum down his throat. You want that?”

“Fuck yeah, of course I do.” Trent’s barely manages to whine out his answer, still breathless from riding Chuck’s cock. 

“Orange, I don’t even have to ask you. I know you want that.” Orange nods, a soft moan against Chuck’s thumb the only confirmation Trent needs to hear to proceed. Chuck tugs Orange’s legs around Trent’s body and urges Trent closer, the tip of his cock immediately there to replace Chuck’s thumb. Trent holds a fistful of short blond hair tight as he slides his cock inside Orange’s mouth, so ready to cum he doesn’t hold back. He thrusts his cock down Orange’s throat and keeps it there, gently moving his hips forward and fucking his smaller friend’s mouth. Orange swallows down his friend’s cock with ease and moans like crazy as Chuck jerks him off, Trent only taking his cock out of Orange’s mouth when he starts to gag and needs a moment to breathe. “Yeah, fuck his mouth, baby. He’s so happy swallowing your cock he’s about to cum over here. You’re both a real pair of Christmas sluts.”

A lazy thumbs up lets Trent know when he’s ready to go again, his cock effortlessly sliding back down his throat. Orange whines and grips at Trent’s ass, his moans distorted by Trent’s dick in his throat as Chuck pumps his cock faster and makes him shoot. Trent’s not far behind the little blond throating his cock, it only takes a few more pumps of Trent’s cock inside that hot mouth of Orange’s and he’s spilling cum down his throat. Orange sputters and gags softly, but keeps sucking and swallows every drop of cum Trent feeds him, letting his friend fuck his mouth until he’s done riding out his orgasm. The three boys barely bother to exchange glances before collapsing in a heap of arms and legs on the bed, gradually adjusting to their usual sleeping position of cuddling with Trent in the middle. 

When morning comes Trent wakes to find he’s alone in bed, a rare occurrence. He must have slept in, exhausted from fucking so frantically the night before. He rustles his way out of the blankets and stretches before making his way out of bed. He finds a note on the opposite side of the bed and picks it up, a piece of paper covered in scribbles his boyfriends left just for him. 

“Greg, Sorry not sorry we called you a ho ho ho. Come downstairs and we’ll make you coffee and breakfast.

Love, OC and Daddy Dust. 

P.S. Keep the Santa hat on!”


	8. My Lips Are Chapped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: "No Don't Kiss Me, My Lips Are Chapped!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short Trent/Chuck drabble.

“Trent. Trent. Trent? Trent! Greg. Greg? Trent?” Chuck always waits for the perfect moment to bug the hell out of his partner. Trent’s too busy digging through the contents of his pockets to answer right away, so Chuck takes the opportunity and runs with it. From experience, Chuck knows if he rattles off his friend’s name between ten and twelve times in succession he’ll get a rise out of him. “Trent? Trent?”

“WHAT?”

“Wow, nine? That’s a new record.”

“Shut up.” Trent barely acknowledges his partner’s childish behavior, he’s too wrapped up in searching for something in the pouch of hoodie.

“What are you looking for? Doesn’t matter. Kiss me. Smooch. Gimme one. Kissaroo. Lay it on me. Kiss time. Right now. You and me. Plant one right here.” Chuck’s all up in Trent’s face as he puckers his lips, making obscene sucking sounds as he flaps them up and down.

“Not now.”

“Now.”

“Later.”

“I get where you’re coming from and I see your point, but…have you thought about now?”

“Goddammit, I can’t kiss you right now, Chuck. Lay off!”

Chuck recoils, clutching his chest in horror. “What do you mean you can’t. And what the fuck are you looking for?”

“My Burt’s Bees! I know I put my lip balm in my pocket and now it’s gone. It’s cold and windy out and my lips hurt, okay! So I’m pissed off right now and I don’t feel like kissing you. Leave me alone.”

Chuck watches as his friend continues searching his pockets, hoping to find his lost lip balm. Trent’s too busy rifling through loose change and hair elastics to notice Chuck pull his own tube of Chapstick out of his pocket. “Hmm. Probably fell out. What kind was it?”

“Cucumber mint. Now fuck off. I’m angry. Don’t antagonize me. I’ll kiss you once I find it.”

Once Trent switches to his other pocket and his head is turned, Chuck applies an extra thick layer of balm to his lips, rubbing them together before Trent can turn and catch him. “How do you feel about pink grapefruit?” 

“It’s fine I gu…” Before Trent can answer Chuck’s hands engulf his face, Chuck closing in on him lips first. “Hey! No! Don’t kiss me, my lips are chapped! Can’t you wait? Goddammit, you’re gonna…” Trent’s still protesting when Chuck presses their lips together, but he proceeds unfazed. He figures it’ll help get more Chapstick on Trent’s lips anyway, so he just keeps kissing his partner without any regard for the muffled obscenities coming out of his mouth. Chuck really lays his lips across Trent’s, carefully dragging his bottom lip over his partner’s so he’s sure some of the balm transfers. 

By the time Chuck breaks away and ends their kiss, Trent’s lips are liberally coated in pink grapefruit lip butter. Chuck’s amused at how out of breath Trent is in the wake of their kiss, his partner trying to collect himself as he uses his thumb to wipe some excess balm from his chin. “You didn’t have to get pissy. All you had to do was ask, you know I’ll share.”


	9. Soft Serve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 9. A: It’s so cold
> 
> B: I’ll keep you warm ;)
> 
> A: *unamused*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a little Trent/Orange drabble.

“What do you want to do now?”

“Ice cream.” It doesn’t matter to Orange that the two men just shared an enormous dinner. If at any point Trent asks what he wants to do next on date night the answer is always go get ice cream. 

“How did I know you were going to say that?” Trent sighs, pulling the zipper of his coat up all the way. “It’s January, little buddy. Can we do something else?”

“Ice cream. Soft serve.”

“Yeah, I know. You love ice cream. It’s so cold, though. Can we get coffee instead?”

Orange makes a displeased face and sticks out his tongue. “Ice cream.” He repeats himself as he points down the street in the direction of the nearest shop that offers soft serve all year round. “Ice cream.”

“It’s too cold. Can’t we go home and have ice cream in front of the tv, where it’s warm?” Trent offers his friend a compromise as he shoves both hands into his pockets, hoping to keep them warm. 

“It’s not the same! I want soft serve. A swirl.” Orange links his arm inside Trent’s and practically drags him down the sidewalk towards their destination, Trent’s breath creating a massive cloud into the cold as he grumbles with every step. Orange disregards his friend’s reluctance and places his head on Trent’s shoulder as he offers a bargain of his own. “We’ll get one of those giant sundaes and I’ll feed you bites. If you’re cold I’ll keep you warm.” Orange coos in his friend’s ear, eagerly offering a few sweet words in hopes of getting Trent as excited about ice cream as he is. 

Trent scoffs and rolls his eyes, gently nudging Orange’s ribs with his elbow. “You’re gonna keep me warm? Try and be sexy all you want but I don’t think you can prevent brain freeze, Orange.”

“You sayin’ I’m not hot?”

“I’m sayin’ you can have all the ice cream you want. They better have hot chocolate.”


	10. Falling Down

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt 1. A slips on ice and grabs B to keep from falling down.
> 
> 2\. Plot twist: they both fall down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little Chuck/Orange with Walter the dog.

“Yukon Cornelius’s balls! It’s fucking cold!” Chuck trails behind Orange and Walter down the sidewalk, staring down at his feet as he takes small, precise steps across the icy patches. 

“Shut up. You’re the one that wanted to walk the dog.” Orange reminds him, gripping the dog’s leash tight as Walter tugs at it to scurry over towards a pile of freshly plowed snow. 

“He needs his exercise, Orange. And look how cute he is! He loves the little boots and sweater I got him for Christmas!”

“He looks like an idiot.” Orange frowns, watching as Walter alternates between legs, every few steps trying to kick off the fur-trimmed boots Chuck put on his paws. “See. He hates them.”

“He does not! You want him to have cold feet out here?” Chuck asks, walking out into the street to avoid a huge patch of ice. 

“They’re pink. Couldn’t you have at least picked out a more manly pair?” Orange scrunches his nose, still observing Walter as he stops to gnaw at the collar of his sweater. 

“Way to perpetuate gender-specific stereotypes, Orange! I’ll have you know he’s still every bit a man even in pink boots…and they were the only pair left in his size.” 

“I suppose the ‘Bitches Love Me’ sweater makes up for the boots.” Orange jokes, pausing so Walter can leave his mark on a tree. 

“Yeah, I thought so too. He’s just so cute! Look how much he loves the presents his Daddy got for him!”

“He just pissed on one of his boots.”

“Oh, goddammit!”

“Let’s go back.”

Chuck nods, nearly slipping as he turns around to lead them home. “Fucking shit! This ice is everywhere. It’s bulllshit.”

“It’s winter. You put boots on the dog but you’re out here in your Converse.” Orange laughs, gently pulling at Walter’s leash to encourage him to turn around with them. The little dog bounds down the sidewalk along with both men, entirely unaffected by the ice and cold temperatures. “He is pretty happy, though. Poor little guy must have really wanted to go outside.”

“At least that makes one of us.” Chuck waves his arms, catching himself at the last moment as he slips on another patch of ice. “FUCK! Orange, hold my hand. I don’t wanna fall.”

“Hell no. I’m walking the dog. Just be careful, you big ape. You’ll make both of us fall.” 

“C’mon, I’ll just hold you.” Chuck slides closer, snaking his arm around Orange’s. 

“If you make me fall down I swear once we get home…” Orange barely has a chance to warn Chuck against making him lose his footing before Chuck’s slipping again, and this time he’s not fast enough to catch himself. Before Orange can steady himself Chuck has an arm around his waist, trying to catch his fall. There’s no use. It’s far too slippery. Both men slip on the icy sidewalk and collapse straight into a tall pile of fresh snow, a cold, wet flurry of snow flying up and hitting both their faces. “Goddammit, asshole! I told you you’d make us fall.”

Walter runs around the two men in circles as Orange holds his leash for dear life. “Look, now you got the dog all upset.”

“It’s not my fault. Blame winter. Fuck you, winter!” Chuck gives the mound of snow they crashed into a big one-finger salute before sitting up, trying to brush the snow off his jeans and collect himself. Once he’s up and regained his footing he offers Orange his hand, carefully helping his friend get back to his feet. 

“Hey. Look.” Orange barely manages through a fit of laughter.

“What?” Chuck’s busy sweeping wet snow off his ass and doesn’t yet notice what’s making Orange laugh so hard. 

“You’re right, he really loves those boots and that sweater.” In all the chaos, Walter somehow removed not only one of his boots but also his sweater. When Chuck turns to look, he finds his dog busy burying both items, using his back feet to kick snow over them. 

“Oh, goddammit! Bad dog!”


	11. Snowed In/Power Outage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 5\. Getting snowed in  
> 10\. The otp+ are in the middle of a fight (or some other kind of big discussion) when the power goes out during a storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's two Orange/Chuck drabbles.

5\. Getting snowed in

“…more than a foot overnight with up to ten inches of new precipitation expected within the next eight hours. Looks like we’re in for a lengthy winter storm here, folks. So buckle in, hunker down, and stay inside. Travel is not recommended as it’s just not safe out there…”

“ORANGE!” Chuck mutes the television and yells through the house to wake his roommate to tell him the news. Their flight for later that day has been canceled with no hope of rescheduling any time in the near future because of severe weather conditions. “ORANGE?” Chuck hollers again but still no answer. He decides to give his friend a little bit longer to sleep and starts a pot of coffee, hoping the smell will rouse Orange from his slumber. The news station shows videos and pictures of numerous mountains and walls of snow from local areas, Chuck laughing as he watches the poor saps on tv trying in vain to shovel their way out of the shitstorm of snow that hit the state. “Ha. That guy’s good and stuck. What a goober. ORANGE! You’re missing it! ORANGE! Godammit.”

Even though the pair no longer have anyplace to be that day, Chuck still wants his friend to get up and keep him company. If he’s awake then Orange should be too, dammit. He makes his way upstairs to his friend’s room, walking in to find Orange awake but still wrapped up in bed, head slack as could be as it hangs over the side of the mattress. “Orange. Get up. Orange. Orange!”

“No.”

“C’mon. I’m lonely! It’s blizzard city out there. Have you looked out the window?”

“No.” Orange slowly rolls over and makes room for Chuck to sit on the edge of his bed, pulling his blanket up so all that’s visible is the very blond top of his head.  
“There’s so much snow out there. Bet if you went out on the deck there’d be snow up to your tight little butt. Wanna try?”

“No.” 

“What do you wanna do? Get up! Let’s do something around the house, I’m bored! Orange! Get up.”

“Nah.”

“I’ll make you breakfast.”

Orange peeks out from the top of his blanket, barely exposing his face. “Breakfast?” 

“Yeah. Come downstairs.”

“Yuck.” Orange pulls the blanket back over his head and grunts as he rolls over, clearly disgusted at the mere thought of getting out of bed, even with the promise of breakfast. “Bring it.” Orange suggests, voice muffled under layers of flannel sheets and heavy blankets. 

“Breakfast in bed? This ain’t no bed and breakfast, Orange. Get up!” Chuck pesters Orange like only he can, whining his name while reaching inside the covers to poke at his friend’s ticklish spots. Orange wriggles enough to avoid being tickled too much, wrapping himself up tighter yet in his blankets. 

“Bring it. We can both eat in bed.” Orange insists, not wavering in the least. 

“Orange! C’mon! I want you up!” 

Orange knows there’s only one way to get Chuck to stop pestering him, and luckily it’ll get both men something they want. “Bring us breakfast in bed and when we’re done I’ll let you fuck me in a nice, hot shower.” 

“You want bacon or ham?” Chuck asks as he leaps to his feet and heads back downstairs. 

“Both.” Orange yells after him, beginning to unearth himself from the covers. Chuck’s already gone, halfway to the kitchen by then. 

(Let’s imagine this is later that same day, still Chuck and Orange, still snowed in.)

10\. The otp+ are in the middle of a fight (or some other kind of big discussion) when the power goes out during a storm

“I did the dishes, you take out the fucking garbage!”

“Fuck you Orange! It’s your turn to take out the trash. I did it the last ten times. And take the dog out while you’re at it.”

“You literally did one thing today. One thing. You made breakfast. I did everything else. Get up off your ass and help me with the housework once in a while and I wouldn’t complain.”

“I fucked you, that counts as a thing. Two. That’s two things.”

Domestic squabbles are common between Orange and Chuck, but the one they find themselves involved in today is rather heated. Both of them know it’s just because they’re frustrated by snowed in and it’s nothing personal, but it doesn’t make their argument any less severe by any means. 

“Get up and let the dog out yourself. I let him out last night before bed. You’ll have to shovel a path. The one I made last night is long gone.” Orange yells at Chuck as he yanks an overflowing bag of garbage out of their trash can, ripping a hole in the bag in the process. “And how many times have I asked you not to fill the fucking garbage so full? Now there’s gonna be shit everywhere!”

“Bitch, bitch, bitch! I never do anything right, do I?” Chuck stands up and makes his way to the kitchen and comes closer to Orange, the smaller man still busy picking trash up off the floor as Chuck keeps yelling at him in an overexaggerated, mocking tone. “Tell me if you know who I’m doing an impression of, okay Orange? Chuck, you never do anything. You suck. I hate you. You’re a slob. You’re too fat. You cum too fast. You’re lazy. Your dick is too small.” 

Orange freezes in place, back still turned to Chuck as he speaks. “I have never said any of those things. I would never.” 

“No, but they’re implied. You make me feel like a piece of shit when you belittle me all the time. Some days I wonder if you even like living with me. You probably ha…” Before Chuck can yell any longer, the power flashes off. Things fall immediately silent between the two men as they stand in the pitch-black room. “Fuck.” Chuck is first to speak, hands out to feel his way around the kitchen as he slowly walks towards the junk drawer. Orange must have had the same idea because as Chuck nears the other side of the kitchen he bumps directly into his friend, both men startled by the contact. “Shit!”

“Fuck, sorry dude.”

“Need to find a flashlight.” Chuck tries to slide past his roommate but Orange stops him, grabbing his waist and pushing him against the kitchen counter. 

“In a minute.” 

“Yeah, but it’s dark and…”

“Hey, I meant like…sorry sorry.” Orange presses his face to Chuck’s neck and lays down a few soft, apologetic kisses. 

“Oh. Right.” The feeling of Orange’s lips gently fluttering over his collarbone sends any traces of their argument packing, Chuck immediately melting when his small friend starts lightly sucking at the side of his neck. “Me too.”

“Don’t say shit like that when you’re mad.” Orange tells him softly, wrapping his arms around Chuck’s body to hold him tight. 

“Don’t nag so much.” 

“K.” Orange’s breath is in Chuck’s ear as he playfully nibbles on his friend’s earlobe, Chuck’s hands instantly gliding down to collect Orange’s ass in their grasp. 

“Whaddya wanna do now?” Chuck asks, slowly massaging Orange’s ass in the darkness. 

“There’s not much we can do in the dark. I feel bad for yelling at you. Want me to blow you to make it up to you?” The lights come back on just then and both men find themselves staring at the other, laughter erupting between them immediately. 

“Sorry.”

“Yeah, sorry.”

“You’re still totally gonna blow me, right?”


	12. Sledding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 3\. The otp+ are excited to go sledding and make snowmen and stuff but the snow keeps turning into rain and melting. Requested by Krys aka undisputedhangman on Tumblr.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a fun one because I was really hoping someone would request the sledding prompt from my Christmas prompt list.

“Aw man, there’s tons of kids here.” Chuck moans as the trio of Trent, Orange, and himself round the corner towards the town’s best sledding hill.

“Yeah, dumbass. What’d you expect?” 

“If they get in my way I’m running them down, Trent. I’m not joking. Orange! C’mon, buddy. We’re almost there!”

“K.” Orange lags behind his two friends, begrudgingly pulling Chuck’s sled alongside his body. 

“It’s gonna melt, dude.” Trent notes, a soft rain beginning to fall down as the three men make their way to the top of the hill. 

“Not before I go down this hill a few times. Orange! Sled!” 

“Yep.” Orange slides Chuck’s comically undersized plastic sled across the snow, Trent laughing as Chuck catches it and tries to position all of his body in it. 

“That thing is for kids. Where did you even get it?” Trent stomps down some wet chunks of snow as he watches his friend try to fit both of his long legs onto the child-size sled. 

“Beat up a kid and stole it from him. Kicked his ass real good like I’m gonna do to these little twerps if they mess with me.”

“Orange? Where’d he get that?” Trent turns and asks his blond friend, unsure of why he even bothered to ask Chuck in the first place as he never gets a straight answer.

Orange lowers his rain speckled sunglasses and peeks out at Trent as he replies. “He made me go to our neighbor’s house and ask to borrow it. That was all they had.”

“Orange! Push me.” Chuck’s finally managed to arrange his limbs on the sled and grips the sides as he waits, giant smile across his face. 

“K.” Orange strolls over nonchalantly and gives Chuck a gentle nudge with the toe of his shoe, the tiny push just enough to get Chuck started down the hill. Even without a big shove, Chuck still flies down the hill pretty fast, the rain making the top of the snow good and slick. 

“What a dope.” Trent laughs as Chuck careens down the slope of the hill, yelling with his arms high in the air. “Where you goin?” He asks as Orange wanders off in the opposite direction. 

“There.” Orange points towards the bottom of the hill where a small group of kids look busy trying to pack together snow to make the base of a snowman, some other kids running as they send snowballs flying at each other. 

“Oh. I’ll be over once he makes it back up here.” Orange salutes Trent with a lazy thumbs up and makes his way over to the children. Trent smiles as he watches his friend help the kids pack snowballs, even taking time to show one smaller kid the best form when throwing one. Chuck finally makes his way back up to Trent, wet and out of breath. 

“Long…way…up…” Chuck huffs and puffs, flopping down into the snow. 

“You gonna go again?” 

“I dunno, rain’s making everything melty and wet. It’s pretty sloppy down there. That’s what she said. Ha!”

“Shut up. There are kids here.”

“Not enough hot moms, though. Kinda disappointed.”

Trent shakes his head in disapproval as he walks over to his partner and squats down. “Get on. I’ll give you a real push.” 

“Probably the only one I’ll ever get.” Chuck sighs, popping his ass back onto his sled. “K. Make it a big one. I’m gonna stick my arms out and clothesline those kids over there on my way down. Watch me.”  
“Don’t you dare. I won’t push you. I’ll just leave you here.”

“Fine. I won’t injure any children. PUSH!”

Trent rears back and gives Chuck a massive shove, sending him flying. Chuck soars down once again, this time at an even greater speed. Trent follows him down, making his way down the slippery hill carefully. He wants to meet his friend at the bottom so they can meet back up with Orange, who’s still spending his time helping the same group of kids pick up a huge ball of snow to put the middle of their snowman in place. It’s warmed up a little this afternoon and the snow is melty, so the center of their snowman doesn’t stay put very well. It’s wet and crumbling, so Orange leans against it to keep it steady as the kids put the head on it, holding his arm around it to keep it in place. 

“Did ya see me? Did ya see me?” Chuck stomps over, lumps of wet snow stuck in his hair. 

“Yeah. Kinda. Actually I was watching Orange.”

“Where’d he go?”

“He’s helping those kids.”

“Yuck. Kids.” Chuck’s barely finished denouncing children when a little boy tugs at the sleeve of his coat, trying to get his attention. 

“Hey, mister!”

“Oh, shit!” Chuck looks down at the little kid, startled. “Where’d you come from? Whaddya want?”

Trent cocks his head and glares at Chuck, his stare a warning that he’d better be nice. 

“I mean, hey…what’s up, junior?”

“Will you pull me back up the hill? I wanna go again and I’m tired.”

“What? No way! Get your parents to pu…OW!”

Trent kicks Chuck’s shin as he clears his throat and flashes his friend an even icier glare. 

“…yeah…ok. C’mon kid.” Chuck grabs the little boy and plops him down on his sled, scowling at Trent as he begins pulling him back up to the top. “This’ll go faster if you help me, huh Trent?”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Trent catches up and helps Chuck pull the little kid back up the hill. 

“You want me to push you back down?” Chuck asks once they’re back at the top, Trent surprised he’d even offer. 

“Yeah!”

“K. But you’re on your own getting back up.”

“Yeah!”

Chuck gives the kid an enormous shove, the delighted look on his face enough to make both men smile even though they’re thoroughly drenched and exhausted. 

“My ass is wet. Let’s get Orange and split.” Chuck grabs Trent’s hand and leads him over towards their teammate, the damp, heavy snow collecting on their shoes as they schlep over. 

“Orange! Let’s go.”

“Not yet.” They find their friend beside a massive stockpile of snowballs, packing another in his hands. “Time to fight, baybee!” Orange tosses a snowball at Trent first, then Chuck, hitting both men in the stomach. As Trent and Chuck scramble to steal some snowballs of their own, Orange waves the kids over to help him. Orange’s army of children are much faster than Trent and Chuck, sending a barrage of fat, wet snowballs at the two men. 

“Orange, you dick!” Chuck swears as he gets pelted with snowball after snowball, the kids not letting up until Orange’s pile of premade snowballs is depleted. 

“K. Now we can go.”


End file.
